


The Only Living Boy

by dancingpink



Series: I do not love you. [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: (theres a playlist:), F/F, F/M, I promise, M/M, also lots of music, also theres drinking and cussing and mild drug use, also theres spanish speaking (and spells), and nightmares, baz comes back a mont earlier, but what isnt in this fandom eh?, canon line but with a twist, enemies to lovers but with a mess in between, i guess its a slow burn, i love these bois n grrrls and i hope to do good :), ill just try to make it good, im not a monster, there will also be comfort, there will be angst, theres a singing room, things are a bit rougher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-07-20 13:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19992817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingpink/pseuds/dancingpink
Summary: "I didn't use to like Queen, they were too much for me. Baz started to play them loud in our room when he found out–just to mess with me. I got angry at first, but he played them so much I actually started to like them, specially the drums. They can be smooth, and go unnoticed, but they're always there, waiting for their moment to blast, and then seizing it in a powerful, sort of liberating way."--When summer ends, life for Simon begins. He gets everything back: his school, his friends, his girlfriend, his home. And his terrible roommate, Baz. That is until Agatha breaks up with him and Baz doesn't show up for their last year of bickering.At least Penny is there to help him deal, but when his nights turn sleepless and The Room plays music on a loop to annoy him, the longing for change isn't so shallow.





	1. CHAPTER ONE: GLORY DAYS

_ “...I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, _

_ in secret, between the shadow and the soul…” _

Pablo Neruda, 1959

**PROLOGUE**

You would think getting kidnaped by your greatest enemy and barely escaping alive is the thing that would give you nightmares, but its not. You would think that watching  _ him _ , smiling with your face, walking around with your legs would give you nightmares–but that only happened once.

Seeing your best friend, crying over your numb body and not being able to hold her, or even _ tell her _ you're fine, because you are so burned out moving is impossible; watching her fierce face become a river of tears mixed with sweat and blood–that'll give you nightmares.

But I'm ok. I survived.  _ We _ survived.

I struggle a bit as I walk through crowds at the train station, until I stumble with a man holding a sign with my name. I shake his hand and get into the cab with him.

I think seeing my room will help, it always has. I can still remember the feel of magic: it's thick and heavy, and it tastes a little bit like lavender, but also copper. 

The cabbie starts the car and my chest feels immediately lighter.

I'm almost there. I'm almost home.

**CHAPTER 1: GLORY DAYS**  
  


**SIMON**

It's almost dawn when I finally see the road to Watford, and I think I could cry if I wasn't so tired. 

I had a hard time getting here, harder than any other year before. Mainly because I haven't heard from anyone in months, and thinking about my last day at Watford in the train that brought me here (or at least half way here) only made my stomach hurt. 

I was so anxious my magic spilled, and I ended up smelling like a firefighter. An attendant had to open every window in the cart to get rid of the smell, then she nagged at me for smoking inside: told me I was  _ “Too young to be doing such things” _ . 

I wish she knew I've saved the world, maybe then she wouldn't think I was a toe rag.

I stop walking when I notice there's a small rabbit on the side of the road. If I'm quiet I might be able to pet it, and something good would happened today. There's a bunch of spells I could try for attracting animals, but I prefer not to point my wand at living creatures unless they're trying to kill someone, or set the school on fire. 

I leave my bags on the ground to be lighter, but there is leprechaun gold in one of them, and when it hits the ground it rattles. The rabbit turns around, it's a small, fluffy, brown ball of hair, and his ears shoot up when he sees me. We stare at each other for a bit, none of us moving. I try to do a nice thing and wave at him to show I'm friendly, but his ears draw back and he runs frightened to a nearby treehole.

I should've guessed it wouldn't work. I mean, who the fuck waves at a rabbit?

Baz would piss on me if he found out. He would quote every summoning spell there is while calling me a mistake of nature, then spit on my face.

Maybe he would've eaten the rabbit, too. He's a vampire after all,  _ and _ an arsehole.

(Penny says the Vampirism isn't confirmed, but the arsehole part sure is.)

He could also tell me seven different ways to get to school that don't involve walking for an hour and change with a shit weather, so I make a mental note to not let him know any of this happened, for my own good.

I make another note to keep away the fact that I lost my ride because of a dark creature. (He'd side with them anyway.) (He  _ is _ dark.)

To get to Watford every year I have to take a bus, then another bus, and then a train, and if I'm lucky, The Mage sends a cabby to pick me up at the station. If I´m not, I have to find some cash or walk my legs off. So when I saw an odd looking fella with a cardboard that said “ _ Snow” _ , I didn't think twice to follow.

Turns out the cabbie was a goblin that wanted to kill me to become the Goblin King. According to Penny, they have  _ “an outdated politikal system that needs a proper introduction to democracy–or at least a respectable hierarchy .” _ It started when I killed their last king on a mission with The Mage, but as usual, it ended up with my sword being summoned and khaki blood all over my trainers.

This wasn't by far the first dark creature to try n' kill me, but at least none of the others left me stranded in the middle of the country, halfway to school, with no money, and a very pressing set of memories I’d rather  _ not _ think about right now.

The road was pretty empty since Normals don't take this route unless they are lost, and when a car _ did _ drove by, they wouldn't pick me up. I'm filled with dirt, blood and sweat, plus my  **_“Clean as a whistle!”_ ** was pretty shitty, so you can smell me from a mile away. 

They were playing David Bowie though, and I started humming the tune for  _ Heroes _ while I walked.

At first it was nice because it reminded me of Agatha. We saw that movie with Ezra Miller and Emma Watson together over Christmas last year, and she  _ loved _ it. She wouldn't stop listening to the soundtrack and actually asked her mum for a shorter haircut, but she wouldn't let her.  _ “A lady shouldn't look like that. Now go off and get dressed, dinner is almost ready” _ .

We did tried to sneak out of her house for a  _ Rocky Horror _ show once, but Penny called and said she found something in her dad's office–so we stayed. She was kind of mad after that, but we kept listening to the record and she even sang a song, which was brilliant because she never sings.

I think that was the last time we actually had fun together. Our relationship has pretty much gone downhill from there, and we haven't spoken all summer.

I think we  _ should _ talk...

As I humm to David Bowie, the fact that I don't know if we're  _ together _ anymore hits me, and I feel like someone dropped a worseger in my guts. The day the Humdrum kidnaped me and Penny–and I mean right before–I saw her in the woods, holding Baz hands and  _ whispering  _ things _. _ (They were so close I  _ swore _ they would kiss.) I was about to confront them when Penny grabbed my arm, and the next we knew we were far from school and in the middle of a dead spot. It took us almost four days to get back to Watford, and it was a shit show when we arrived all bloody in the middle of an assembly. As soon everyone stopped screaming, The Mage started speaking about politics and war, but Penny's mom interrupted him, saying war wasn't meant for kids. She walked towards us, took Penelope and disappeared her entire family away. Everything was pretty much over after that, so The Mage told me to follow him, and I did. He made sure I wasn't extremely hurt and then took me back to a children's home. 

I lost contact with everyone then, since I don't take my phone with me for the summer–so we really didn't get a chance to talk. 

I have asked her about liking Baz before, and she says there is nothing between them, so I try and leave it at that–but I go mental if I think too much about it, and right now I have nothing to do but think.

Fuck that goblin.

As I get closer to the gates (so close they actually look big now), I try to replace Bowie with some Queen, but I only manage to remember a couple of lyrics before hitting a wall–so I sing them halfway through and then repeat. 

I didn't use to like Queen, they were  _ too much _ for me. Baz started to play them loud in our room when he found out–just to mess with me. I got angry at first, but he played them so much I actually started to like them, specially the drums. They can be smooth, and go unnoticed, but they're always there, waiting for their moment to blast, and then seizing it in a powerful, sort of liberating way.

Focusing on that has actually helped me to control my magic a bit better, but I could never tell Baz, or he'll stop playing them. He'd never miss a chance to piss me off. He's fucking  _ infuriating _ .

If he had it his way  _ Bohemian Rhapsody _ would be playing during our fight to the death, with the drums hitting as he bites down on me neck and ends our rivalry once and for all.

I don't really like to think about that, so I keep singing instead.

When I get to the great doors I'm surprised to see Premal there. He's the oldest of Penny's brothers and one of the Mage's Men. We chat for a bit and he cleans my trousers and a spot on the cheek I didn't even realized I had.

But before he lets me through, he stops me cold and points his wand at me. 

“It's a security measure.” He said. “The Mage asked me to look out for the Humdrum, and these days it has your face, after all.”

The Mage also said it was a secret, and if it  _ were _ the Insidious Humdrum instead of  _ me _ , Premal would've known without needing his stupid wand. Still, my chest sinks a bit and I wanna fight back, but I'm too tired for this shite, seeing Penny and getting to my room is  _ far _ more important than fighting Premal. Even if it made my magic boil a bit.

I take a big breath as I walk past the doors, so that I sound normal. “Is she here?”  _ Deep breath.  _ “Penny, I mean.” 

When I turn to see if Premal has an answer, he's already walking the other way. I figure he was only waiting to see me, and is now going to The Mage. It's ok, I get it. I would be weary of me, too.

I turn back to see the grounds: they look beautiful, the smell of incantations and the salt from the moat fill the summer air as the sun sets through the buildings, and I stare for a bit before heading onto Mummers House.

It's so good to be back home.

****

**PENNY**

There's a ringtone coming from my bag and I've never thanked for anyone's diarrhoea as much as I have today.

Simon is taking longer than ever getting here, and my awful roommate, Trixie, was already in the room when I opened the door. If it weren't for her sudden interest in streat fajitas (and a glorious intolerance from her body) she would be here right now, talking my ears off and leaving pixie dust  _ everywhere.  _ Also, she would have asked about the phone, and I don't want to explain anything to her. 

Lucky for me, Baz won't be coming before the weekend, so I can stay with Simon until then. I just hope Trixie's girlfriend, Keris, isn't back until then either, or I'll be dealing with a  _ lot _ more pixie dust than I can take.

I grab my mobile and answer Premal's call.

_ “Simon's here.” _

I jump off bed and start getting my boots on.  _ Thank Merlin _ he's here.

_ “Is that music in the background?” _ I'm playing one of my playlists so I'm deaf to Trixie's... drama.

_“...by the way, this is the last thing I'll do for you.”_ Premal is still speaking, _“If_ The Mage _found out_ you _had a phone, and that_ I– _”_

I don't care for the end of that sentence. I'd thank him for letting me know Simon arrived, but he's only playing nice so mum won't scowl at him during winter break. (The phone was her idea.) Plus, I can always say the signal is rubbish here. He'll have no way to prove it.

I let Trixie know I'm leaving and she asks for another roll and a magazine.

_ “I _ ' _ m going to be stuck for a while!!” _ Crawley, she can't even be sick in private.

I bodge a  **_“No hay papel!”_ ** (mexican spell for when you run out of bog rolls), and accidentally disappear every tissue in the room.  _ Cities in Dust _ starts playing, so I turn the music all the way up, give her a bunch of  _ Vogues, _ and leap to the door before can ask for a roll again. 

I really can't wait for her and Keris to elope far, far away from me.

**SIMON**

When I enter my room I see that it's empty. I stand in the doorway and take a moment to breathe the air inside: it smells a bit of lavender and a lot of dust. Merlin and Morgana, I've missed it. All my things are as I left them the day I was taken, scrambled and messy, while Baz' side looks pristine. I walk to the bathroom to open up the windows and I get a scent of Baz' posh soap. (It smells like cedar and bergamot, and it can be intoxicating when he takes a shower.)

When I return I notice his side looks so clean because a bunch of his things are gone. His illegal record player and some books he's had here since third year aren't where they're supposed to, but I guess that could be normal. He'll probably bring them with him at the end of the week, when he comes back from vacation.

Until then I have the room to myself, and I love it.

I remember the first time I saw it: I was still kind of in the midst about everything. I couldn't even be sure it wasn't all a dream. So when they gave me a room number I stumbled up the stairs just to get there first, just to be sure it was me, awake, in a world where magic and castles and swords existed, and not just a stupid dream from a kid on an orphanage. 

But when I opened the door a soft warmth touched my face and I couldn't help but grin. There it was: a bed of my own, a place to share with no other kids (except for one), a drawer to put  _ my _ things…

A place to call my own, it was everything I'd never been given. Well, almost everything.

I actually think that was the day my life really began. When I confirmed magic was real and there was no-one who could come and _take_ _it_ from me, when I saw there was a hole world of wonders and I got to be a part of it. 

It was also the day Baz became my roommate and made me  _ really _ believe in the word  _ arsehole _ . 

When the Crucible paired us together, it took its time. It had been a while of seeing people finding they're person and wondering if I had done something wrong, when I felt a tug on my stomach–a sort of sting, coming from my insides and pulling me towards heat. 

By the time I saw him, the pull had morphed into an intense squeeze and a need to pee, and I was making a little dance with my feet trying to contain it. I thought that whoever my partner was, he should be feeling the same, but Baz just looked like he was  _ meant _ to walk with prestige. Even though we were only eleven, he looked like the type of person that only follows his own rhythm, and he walked like the world was supposed to  _ wait _ rather than make him hurry. He still does.

When he got to our room, I was already curled into a ball on the corner of my bed. 

He didn't say anything, just side-eyed me and started unpacking his clothes. Then a couple of boys named Dev and Niall walked in and wouldn't stop staring at me. They asked a lot of questions about my life and The Mage I hadn't even  _ thought _ about.

_ “Is the Mage really bad at soccer?” “What kind of trousers does he wear?” “Are you really as powerful as they say you are?” _

They kept at it until Baz had had enough.

_ “I _ ' _ m going to bed.”  _ He spoke like an authority, and the three of us turned. _ “You should, too. Unless you enjoy talking to a drywall.” _ He eyed me again, left eyebrow raised and no sympathy. The two boys looked at eachother and obliged almost immediately, locking the door behind them. 

As soon as they left, Baz shook his head and kept unpacking the smallest of his cases. I was starting to feel grateful when he stopped and turned to me, half-frowning.

_ “What are  _ you _ looking at?” _

I shrugged and didn't answer.

_ “Why don _ ' _ t you keep an eye on your  _ own _ things, or I'll burn them while you sleep.” _

(Sometimes I wonder why he hasn't burned  _ me _ yet. He is obsessed with fire.)

By then my only true possessions were a small bunch of hand-me-downs that were far from being  _ kid's size _ and a red rubber ball.

I don't own anything pre-Watford anymore, though. When The Mage gave me my uniform, fresh, and clean, and  _ new _ , I threw the clothes right into the bin.

Baz found them the next day and put them back in my drawer.

_ “If you want to get rid of them, I'll burn them for you. Just put them on.” _

He also threw the rubber ball into the moat on our second year, the prick. 

I shift on my heels just thinking about that, about how Baz and I became enemies and the fights we used to have as kids. Everything used to be so  _ easy _ . (Though it's never felt that way.)

When The Mage brought me to this world, he also told me there were people– _ The Old Families, The Pitches _ -that were trying to destroy it. He gave it to me, and told me it was mine to protect. So I fight for it, big and small, and even when I can't, I'll keep fighting–because I love this world, and I want it  _ safe _ . 

  
  


I wasn't expecting Baz to be back yet, or for Penny to be in my room when I entered, but I wasn't expecting to feel so  _ sad _ , either. Looking at everything and thinking about the first time that I was here turned out to be kind of  _ awkward _ . 

I fall on my bed with a soft  _ thud _ . It smells like old fabric, and I can almost feel a little bit of magic from years of maintenance. I close my eyes against the pillow and hug it.

Then I hear the doorknob rattle.

I'm on my feet in no time, summoning the Sword of Mages–but before I know it, Penny bursts in and stumbles with my bag of gold (which I left by the door).

“Simon!” She says, more relieved than angry, and louder than she should. “Don't leave your shite like this!”

I disappear my sword and sigh, just as she closes the door behind her.

“You're not supposed to be here,” I say when she gets closer. A smile is filling my face. 

“It's good to see you.”

“It's good to see you, too.”

**PENNY**

Miss Possibelf nearly caught me entering Mummers House (girls are not allowed), and I'm still riding the rush from getting away.

Walking here from The Cloisters I tried to remember the list of all the things Simon should know about my summer, starting with the fact that I got to see Micah–but every time I thought about something war-related I felt sick.

Maybe because the last time we saw each other was sort of a mess. Definitely because the last concrete thing we learnt about The Humdrum nearly destroyed everything we ever knew, and getting back on that horse is being harder than I expected.

It could also be the nightmares, but I definitely took  _ those _ off my list. 

Every time I woke at 3am I _had_ to make sure that Simon was still _my_ _Simon_ , and not the silent, half drained, angry version of himself he was that day; not the Simon that flew us away, _Merlin knows how_ , to the middle of an empty road and then gave _no sign_ of life until my tears cleaned the blood off my face. (Of both our faces, actually.)

But I was in America most of the summer, and Simon was protected by The Mage in England–so I learnt to sleep with a night light.

“How was summer? Tell me everything.” I say, flopping onto Baz' bed and putting my feet over his sheets, shoes-on. Simon jerks a little.

“It was ok, just, nothing happened,” He's half smiling, and he doesn't look good.

“ _ Simon... _ ”

“No, really,  _ nothing happened _ . The Mage left me in a home almost right after...”

“Wait,  _ what!? _ ” I sit up and look him in the eyes. He must be joking.

“You're joking.”

“I'm not, I just came from the station.” He says like it's the most normal, “Actually, something  _ did _ happen! Another goblin attack. A cabbie this time...”

He keeps talking but I can't hear it. I'm so fucking angry. It's the same every summer: The Mage sends him to a random care home, usually in or around London, and when September comes, he comes back skinny and chipped.

I just didn't think he would do it  _ this time _ .

“...but, I mean, he still  _ looked _ fit. I kind of ended up crashing the cab, though.”

_ What?? _

“What??”

“Don't worry, I had my seatbelt on. I also saw this rabbit while walking near...”

“Are you ok!?”

“Pen, I'm fine. Don't worry.”

But I do. I always do.

The awful thing about being a part of Simon's life is the constant knowledge of how soon it can all end.

“Those damn goblins and their stupid crowning–”

“ _ Pen, _ ”

“Can I sleep here tonight?” I ask, trying to sound casual. “Trixie is back and I can't handle one more night with her _.  _ I  _ need _ to recharge _. _ ” I hope he remembers all the times I walked in on her and Keris doing  _ naked yoga _ . ( _ Why!? _ )

Simon looks unsure, he keeps meeting my eyes.

“Also, I can't handle the smell anymore. Trixie got explosive diarrhoea.”

That makes him laugh, and he steps closer. “ _ Really? _ ”

Maybe it's the light, but I think I can see his ribs through his shirt. (Also, whoever cast a  **_“Clean as a whistle”_ ** on him was  _ lazy _ because he  _ looks _ clean, but smells like he showered in a pig's meal.)

“Yeah. She asked me for a magazine before I left. And a bog roll.”

That gets a good laugh out of him. Merlin, it must be worse than I thought if a fart joke is all it takes…

“We should grab some dinner,” I say, getting off the bed. “Before the first-years devour it.”

Simon's eyes light up and I feel guilty for taking so long. I move towards the door and grab the handle when I realize he's not following.

“Pen,” I turn to look and see his blue eyes, big as plates.

He shifts a little and takes a firmer stance.

“I love you.”

I smile.  _ That's _ my Simon.

“I love you, too.”


	2. CHAPTER TWO: FAUST ARP

**SIMON**

There was a Visiting at the dinner tonight. Apparently they're harmless apparitions from dead people, and they happen every twenty years or so. Only  _ I _ didn't knew that.

When the old lady showed up, glowing and glitching like a bad hologram, I jumped from my seat and called out my sword. Penny had to stop me, and she looked really embarrassed.  _ “Be cool, Simon. They're only Visiting.”  _ No one but the first years turned to look at us, still I felt heat coming up my face.

It's been happening all week though, and I think I'm getting used to them. Penny told me you can only come back if you have something really important to say, or someone to see. But it's easier if your message helps to bring justice about.

I wonder what magic determines as  _ just. _

The dining hall is almost empty when we get there on friday, but there are still some kids having lunch with their parents. We sit far away though, on our usual table, and I turn to see if there's a familiar face around. Agatha is on the other side of the room, drinking tea alone. She's been here for three days, but we've been  _ accidentally _ avoiding each other. I don't know what that means, but Penny says it's only a phase and that we should  _ “get it over with already.” _

I don't know if its a phase, but I don't want to talk to her either. I want Baz to come back first, so I can check for myself if they're together. That way I can just eat my feelings if I have to, and not cause a scene. Plus, if Agatha wanted to talk to me she would have done it by now.

We make eye contact and I turn back to the table, spilling hot tea all over my trousers. I wince and Penny rolls her eyes, she spells the mess away and I think she's going to cast a  **_“Get well soon!”_ ** on my legs, when she gets a strange look and her eyebrows touch behind her glasses.

**_“Sana sana colita de rana!”_ **

I feel her magic on my skin (it's electric and wet), but also a strange, soothing heat spreading through me from my legs. It feels like a warm bowl of chicken soup, or a hug.

“Do you feel better? Are you still in pain?” She's looking at me, almost too intently. “How's your bum??”

“What was that?” I say, feeling calmer and softer than I've had all week. Merlin, maybe even all summer.

“It's a healing spell from México. Micah taught it to me.” Her cheeks get a little flushed whenever she mentions Micah. You wouldn't believe they've been dating for years.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels… good. There's a heat inside me, but, the good kind... not the  _ angry _ kind.” I mumble a little at the end. I don't like feeling  _ that _ heat. Sharp and spiky. This is better.

“ _ Brilliant! _ ” 

Penny experiments on me without warning more often than I'd like, but I guess it's fair since I can go off without a warning too. At least her thing doesn't leave craters on the ground.

It's an almost sunny day, so we finish our breakfast and head outside to stroll a little. The grounds are pretty endless if you count the Wavering Woods, but I only really like to hang on the grass and away from where the faeries might be. (The don't like me very much even though I saved their home, like, twice.)

Penny and I walk past the moat and head towards the football pitch and a soft warm fills my chest. 

I don't think I realized how much I missed the pitch during summer. I come here pretty often, whenever I need a fun break. Even though most of the team hasn't come back yet, and there is no one playing right now, I'd like to sit near and watch the field, like I do the games during the season. I love playing, but I don't get to do it much. ( _ “When you're The Chosen One, there are bigger duties than kicking a ball, Simon.” _ )

Baz does plays for our team, though. He's as much of a beast on the pitch as he is in my life: always precise, always ruthless, and  _ always _ three steps ahead. He's a fucking genius, and a bastard about it too. I'm lucky he won't be here for a few more days.

“Hey Penny,”

“Mh?”

“Why did you asked about my butt earlier?”

“Oh, I was worried I did the spell wrong. You could have gotten green bums for a week if I had.”

“ _ What!? _ ” I don't want green bums.

“Sorry!” She replies, but she doesn't look sorry. “But you see, nothing  _ bad _ happened.”

We're looking at the empty grounds when a sudden cold creeps through me, and I stop on my feet. 

“I have to go back to Mummers House.” I tell Penny, “There's something I need to do.”

She turns to look at me and stops. “I don't think you have green bums, Si. I  _ really _ nailed the pronunciation. That only happens when you mess up the accent.”

“No, it's not  _ that. _ ” I say, feeling flustered, although I'm definitely checking later. “There's just something I need.”

“Want me to come with?”

“That's ok. I'll catch up soon.”

I have the feeling I'm missing  _ something _ . I walk the grounds back to my room, trying to remember exactly  _ what _ I need–but nothing comes to mind. 

I'm sure I'll know it when I see it.

When I enter the room it looks like it did when we left it this morning, except for one thing: The Mage is here.

“Simon,” He's sitting in my bead, and he sprungs from it as I close the door. “Hello.”

“Hello, sir.”

“I was looking for you. How was the road here? You find everything you need?”

“It was fine, sir. There was a goblin attack, but I took care of it.”

“Fantastic!” He smiles and takes a step forward. “Did you use any spells?”

“I used my sword for the attack, but I tried  **“Into thin air!”** for the cab.”

“ _ And... _ ”

I wont meet his eyes. “It worked, sir. Only it took a piece of the road as well...”

The Mage sighs, and I can see I've let him down. His lips twitch, making his moustache shake a little. “That's...  _ fine, _ Simon. We'll work on it as soon as we get to the safe place.”

_ “What!?” _ I look back. He's a little startled by my outburst.

“The  _ safe place, _ Simon. We're going as soon as you're packed”

I don't know what he's talking about, but I can feel my magic, rising beneath my skin.

“I don't want to leave, sir.”

“If we go before noon, we'll be there by sundown.”

“ _ No _ .”

The Mage looks like he just ate a bad burrito. He clenches his jaw and moves a step forward. I stand my ground, but I'm starting to feel my magic creep up. I need to breath.

“What do you mean,  _ no? _ ”

“I mean, I'm not comfortable leaving, sir. There's no safer place than Watford.”

He laughs like he doesn't want to.  _ Deep breaths. _

“Do you really think that?” He's deepened his voice, like he does when he speaks about the war, or The Coven. “Tell me, Simon. Have you ever noticed the Humdrum  _ only _ attacks you when you're at Watford?”

“Yes sir. Haven't you??”

His lips twitch again, and I know I should not have said that.  _ Deep. Bre– _

“Of course.” He blurts. “That is why you have to come with me. I'll keep you safer than you are here. Si–”

“ _ How,  _ sir. How  _ will _ you keep me safe!?” I'm not stuttering, I'm not hesitating. I'm vomiting my words as they come to mind. The Mage looks like he's about to have a stroke, but something makes him look down and his eyes open worried.  I look down too and see that my magic is rising, forming a red glow between us.  _ This is not good. _

_ “Simon...”  _ His voice is changed, he sounds angry and afraid. “Simon,  _ breathe _ .”

_ In...Out...In... _

“Control this, Simon.”

I close my eyes as quick flashes of red start running in front of me.

_ In and out. In and out. _

“ _ Simon–!! _ ”

**And then there's black.**

  
  
  


I wake up in my bed, the smell of fire and burned fabric fills the air, and I can hear a woman's voice near me. When I look up, the room is empty except for The Mage, who is sitting on the chair next to my bed, staring past me with wide, blue eyes.  My vision isn't clear, and when I try to speak an awkward,  _ wheezing _ sound comes out. I try again. This time The Mage notices and turns back.

“Did I…?”

“No, but you were close.” He says, dully. “We're lucky I was able to contain you.”

“ _I'm_ _so sorry._ I–”

“Look, Simon, I'm not forcing you to go. But I want you to  _ think _ about it. Think about what's best for you.”

“It's Watford. Watford is the best for me,” my throat itches, “ _Sir_.” 

“Think about what's best for  _ everyone, _ Simon.” He stands up and walks to the door. “I'll give you some time before I ask again.”

Then he's gone.

I turn back from the chair and slith my way into the sheets until I'm completely buried in them. All the calm I felt before is gone, but there's an  _ In Rainbows _ poster across the room, near Baz' bed.

I fall asleep thinking about duty and the war, and what it would be like to live in the clouds or turn into rain.

****

**AGATHA**

With half the school still at home or unpacking stuff and no one on the pitch playing today I have the world to myself.

I'm relieved to see the tree that I like the most is empty. (Penny and Simon come here too, but they must still be at the dinner.) The top of this tree is my favourite place in all of Watford, although I only go up there when I'm sure no one's looking. (My room is a close second, but only because I have it for myself. My ex-roommate, Philippa, left for a one-year-scholarship in New Zealand, to study sea monsters.) (I guess she liked it there, because she never came back.)

I hop to the lowest branch and close my eyes to breathe the air. It's coming from the west, so it doesn't smell like the moat and the stupid marewolfs. Its fresh and almost sunny outside. I love the sun. I'm starting to think it will be a nice day when I hear Penelope's voice.

“What are you doing?”

Crap , just what I needed. I open my eyes and look down at her. At least Simon's not here.

“Nothing.” I say. I emulate a little  _ pas de ciseaux _ to get off the tree, and land with grace. I can almost feel Penny's eyes rolling at that.

We stare at each other for a minute. Penelope seems to be choosing her words, and I have nothing to say. I start biting my nails, but stop because I don't want to ruin them. She finally opens her mouth.

“How was your summer?” She asks, carefully. I can tell she's playing nice for something.  _ Typical _ .

“I don't know. How was yours?” I cross my arms. I'm mad at her and I'm not giving her what she wants. ( _ Whatever that is. _ )

Penny scofs and doesn't even  _ try _ not to roll her eyes this time. “Don't be like this, Agatha.”

“Don't be like what? I'm just asking about your summer.”

She's frowning, so I know I'm winning.

“Fine. Don't talk to  _ me _ , either.” Her face is suddenly iron and I actually shiver a bit. I  _ hate _ angry Penny. “I just want you to know that whatever is going on between you and Simon…” I stare at her. There's nothing new about this, and I know what's coming. “You should fix whatever's wrong.”

_ Simon, Simon, Simon. _ It's always about Simon.

“There's nothing  _ wrong,  _ Penelope.” And if it were, why should  _ I _ fix it? “Why don't you mind  _ your _ own business and leave me alone!?”

“Because you are my friends, and I care about the two of you. You look miserable!”

That's it. I'm done.

“You're only doing this because of Simon. Because  _ he _ is your best friend and  _ I'm _ just the girl that's supposed to make him happy. I'm not apologizing for taking a step back!” 

I'm crying now, and the words fall out of my mouth before I thoroughly think them–but I'm not going to stop at that. “If you were–if you  _ really were _ my friend–you would've called over the summer, you would have come see me the day I got here–not whenever it was relevant to  _ your _ plot!!”

I'm screaming loud and the birds flew around us. Penelope looks like she's about to cry. Her eyes are watery, but there's a fierceness to them, and I know she wont let herself break. 

I take a second to breathe and swallow back the rest of my tears.

“If you were really my friend, you would be glad to see me–not annoyed because I didn't sit with you at tea.”

I don't know what to do now. I've never fought like this. I've never even fought a friend from Watford before. Penelope is stone silent except for the heavy breathing. I don't think she's had any friendship fight before.

“I–I'm sorry, it's not like I didn't want to see you, or talk, only–”

“Only  _ what _ , Penelope?”

For a second I think Penny will say something else–but when she opens her mouth, a sob escapes her and a river of tears starts to form behind her glasses. She closes her fists over her mouth and fixes her look a little longer before running away from the scene.

I was right in everything I said, but it still hurt to hear it out loud. I don't know how long I've felt this way, but it isn't new or recent.

I climb back up the tree, this time a little higher, and lay on a thick branch. I don't feel like going. This is  _ my _ place, and I have nowhere better to go.

The sun is setting when I open my eyes. The silence is deafening except for a small chirp coming from the tree.

I think a Nightingale is singing. 

I hope it flies far away.

**SIMON**

I wake up to the sound of muffled crying, and I think about the woman's voice from before, but when I turn to see, it's only Penny. 

She's laying on Baz' bed and her face is buried on the pillow. I jump off my bed, grab the biggest blanket I can find, and sit on the edge near her feet. She springs up to hug me. 

“Are you ok? What's wrong??” I say, trying (and failing) to put the blanket on her shoulders. She is sobbing like crazy and there are hiccups, so I just let it go and hug her back.

“Am I an–awful friend!? She cries, and I can barely make sense to what she's saying.

“No, Pen. You're the best friend I have.”

“Of course _ you _ –you would say that.”

I don't know what she means or what to say, so I don't say anything. We stay like that for a while, hugging, until her breathing slows down and I manage to put the blanket on her shoulders.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

She's been staying here all week (even her toothbrush is here) so I don't understand why she's asking–but I don't understand why she's crying, either. I get up to grab some tissues.

“Of course you can stay.” I say, giving her the box. There's a smile on her face, but it crumbles before she blows her nose. I'm really worried. Penny hates crying almost as much as she loves solving a mystery, so she only does it when something's  _ really  _ wrong.

“What happened, Pen?”

“I spoke to Agatha.” She says behind a tissue, “She's really mad at me.”

I didn't expect that.

“She's mad? Why?”

“She said a lot of things about me choosing you over our friendship, and the summer. I didn't call her, Simon. All summer. I have a phone and all, and I didn't call her.”

“You have a phone?” I ask, stupidly, but she ignores me.

“I hurt her, Simon. I hurt her so much I don't think we're friends anymore.  _ She _ doesn't think we're friends!”

I stare at her, then move to Baz' side of the room and start searching.

I can't see the box I'm looking for, the one containing Baz' old radio, plus some discs, but I find something better: Baz' music notebook.

There must be something here I can use.

**PENNY**

Simon looks baffled. I don't think he knows what to do, but it's ok. The problem is that  _ I _ don't know what to do.

All this years I thought of Agatha and me as inevitable friends. We've never really had anything in common. (She loves horses, for starters–I think centaurs are better.) But we hung about and aventured together, and I thought that was enough. 

I didn't know she felt like that. I didn't know she was  _ hurt. _

But that's her problem, isn't it? I never lied about my intentions, I never lied about my feelings or anything!  _ She _ is the one who kept all of this to herself until it exploded. How am  _ I _ to blame for that!?

I've stopped crying. Simon is now on the other side of the room holding a small reddish notebook and murmuring to himself.

“Ok–I think I've got it!” He grabs his wand and it takes me a beat to realize he's trying to conjure up a spell.

“Simon,  _ wha– _ ”

**_“Hit it!”_ ** He spits, pointing at the ceiling. A horrible screech fills the room, and we cover our ears immediately. When the screeching stops a loud piano and a choir take its place. It's a song. I know this song...

“Is that–Is that  _ Dancing Queen!? _ ”

“Yeah,” he says. He's looking a bit amazed at the ceiling, and I can't help but smile. “Come on, we can dance a little.” He says, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the bed.

“No,  _ Simon… _ ”

I don't like to dance and I don't know how. But I try to let go for a minute. No one's looking, just Simon. (He doesn't know how to dance, either.) We both try by moving our feet until we're on rhythm, then my hands begin to move.

I close my eyes and let the music fill my head. I like ABBA. Slowly, I start to feel my arms moving for themselves and my hips too, until there's not a part of me resisting the music. I feel like I'm on a stage, showered by neon lights, and the world is at my feet, dancing too.

I wish Agatha was here.

When the song is over the screech comes back (it kind of sounds like a needle in vinyl), and  _ Dancing Queen _ replaces it again. I tell Simon I'm not staying after all, and leave.

I'm going to fix this.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**THE MAGE**

It happened, it's done. They called me an hour ago to confirm. I told them not to do it but they did right when I was leaving Simon's room. He could've heard.

_ Simon… _

There's nothing I can do now. I'll have to wait about a month or so… Yes, a month will be good–he will have cooled off by then.

He almost lost it today.

I don't know what stopped him, but I'm sure I'll find the spell to  _ fix it _ . Or the potion. Or the book. Or…  _ something. _

I  _ need _ to fix him. There is almost no time. No time left.

If he only knew how much I've given up–for him, for this world–maybe he would be more grateful.  _ Understanding. _

Maybe he would have left Watford like I asked, instead of burning the Pitch boy's sheets and pass out right after. 

It's a good thing he won't see them burnt.

Yes, good.

_Good_.

****

**AGATHA**

I fought with Penny because she left me alone over the summer (and other times before that), and then I had to fight her to leave me be. 

She showed up in my room with a bag of goodies and told me we were having a “girls night”. She just barched inside my room and  **Up, up and away** -ed the clothes off my floor. She then spelled her sweater into a blanket and layed the stuff she brought over it before going for my pillows.

“You did bring your computer, right?”

“Uh, yeah. What–”

“Brill! What are we watching then,  _ Love Actually  _ or  _ The Request _ ?

“You mean  _ The Proposal _ ?

“Sure, is it on Netflix or…?”

“Penelope, what are you doing here?”

“Girls night.” She said, like it was no biggie.

She's never liked the idea of just hanging around in trousers, painting our nails and talking about life. It's always a war meeting or a  _ “regroup” _ –never a girls night. There has to be a life or death scenario to get Penelope Bunce to consider anything I say.

“Are you serious?”

“Whut?” She looked at me the same way you do a person who just farted: confused and a little bit annoyed.

“You're ready to pretend everything's fine just because– _ what!? _ What do you need this time?”

“I just… don't want you to be angry at me. Great snakes, Agatha–I'm doing this for you!”

“No you aren't! If you want to do something for me then leave!”

“Agatha...”

“I don't want you showing up like everything is fine and we're best friends again. It's not that easy.”

Silence again. I feel like I'm in the mouth of a wolf.

“I need some space, to think.” I break, “Please leave so I can get on with it.”

It took her a moment, but she picked up her fake blanket and goodies and left the room. I almost gave, I almost told her to stay, but it felt really forced, like taking a bribe, and I'm not willing to do that anymore.

Whenever I felt left out by them, I strained myself to bury my feelings and pretended it didn't mattered, and when they noticed me again I would take the relief and keep it like a treasure, so I could remember it if I felt bad again. It was like using a chal on a rainstorm and convincing myself it was warm enough, over and over again.

I'm tired of lying, of telling myself stories just to fit into everyone else's. I've done that a lot, and I'm done , I guess I do have a lot to think about.

I pick up my phone and type a message for Minty, hoping she's not too busy or asleep, but the signal is rubbish and I can't send it. I miss her. I wish she was here, having a sleepover and telling me all about the boys she's being ignoring. (She's too cool, and all the boys go head over heels for her.)

I told Penny she couldn't just act like we're best friends anymore, but I think that was a lie. I dont think were best friends. I care a lot for her, but she's never heard me talk about my life and fears, or made me coffee when I couldn't keep my eyes open but still had a lot to say. 

Minty has.

She's a Normal, and she has told me her biggest fears (becoming a “proper lady”, like her mother wants), along with her dreams, like when she wanted to become a professional wrestler. I had to tell her she'd need to have beefy muscles for that  _ (and a spandex) _ , but she told me it was more about dancing.

_ “In Mexico they don't  _ really _ fight: they do intricate choreographies of violence and put on a play. I can definitely do that.” _

_ “You want to go to Mexico?” _

_ “I could. If you have a dream you have to follow it, right? Besides, they have really good food and really hot beaches.” _

_ “I love the beach...” _

I sit above my bed with a blanket on my back, and a couple of anatomy books fall to the floor. I decided to actually focus on school this year round, and anatomy lessons are first on my list. Not magikal anatomy, Normal anatomy. I want to know how a body works without all of the focus being magic transmission or power source.

But tonight I'll leave them in the floor. I turn to my bedside table and look for a tissue to wipe my tears. Saying no to Penny was one of the hardest things I've done, right next to getting back into lacrosse after Ramona Petticoat broke my ribs (twice). It took a lot of crying and cheering from myself; back then I didn't have my phone, so I couldn't call Minty, and Simon was chasing Baz to prove he is a vampire, so he wasn't even at the game. Penny just told me about the time her wrist broke while landing through a mystical portal they dealt with once, and how she fixed it herself.

But it's ok, I'm used to crying alone, and it's actually quite nice. Its self healing.

I've always been the one who cries the hardest and has bad dreams the longest, so it's nothing new, really. Other people hate crying, or don't do it at all. I'm not like that; I love the comfort of tears mixed with a cup of tea. But of course, when your life is filled by grandiose entrances and magnificent magical accomplishments, nobody cares about tea. 

I'm also the one who knows how to make everyone's favourite tea when we have a “meeting”, not that they notice, of course.

I like that though: being there for my friends, joining them with tea instead of helping them look for magickal faery dust, or dragon-egg shells, or  _ whatever _ .

It's a way to show you care, to give love. 

To not be lonely together.

**SIMON**

It's the morning of the welcome-back picnic and the bonfire, and Baz isn't back yet. 

Is not that I  _ want _ him here–I'm actually terrified by the idea of him entering the room.

After Penny left on friday, the music spell kept playing and playing in repeat and now it's  _ sunday _ and I haven't found a way to make it shut up. I tried reversing it with  **_“As you were!”_ ** , but it just screeched and looped another stupid song. 

(I thought of using other spells, or creating a new one–but I don't really want to fuck it up and make the room  _ entirely _ sound-proof.) (There's already a spell so no one  _ outside _ the room can hear what happens here.)

_ "I believe that you and me last forever _

_ Oh yeah, all day and nighttime yours, leave me never…" _

That night Penny went to pick up all her stuff, and told me it was The Kinks. It even has Baz' fucking music taste.

I'm pretty sure this is part of an elaborate scheme he made to drive me insane, or make me hate music, and so far it's working. When I told Penny she rolled her eyes and gave me a pair of ear plugs. (She'd spelled them to make them stronger, so I can sleep.) I also asked her to help with the room, but she's busy trying to fix things with Agatha and I didn't want to push. 

I didn't tell her about The Mage's visit and how he wanted me to leave though; she would have gone nearly crazy counting all the reasons why I shouldn't go. (I actually fear telling her now, in case she gets pissed I didn't mention it before.)

But that's in the past, because in a few hours I will be violently murdered and torched by none other than Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, and nothing will matter anymore.

\----------

The bonfire was pretty good. I drank some dandelion wine with Rhys and his friends, and then they were my friends too. Penny had a good time reading other people's future in her crystal ball. She spelled her cape into a blanket and send out a few sparkles now and then to attract first years. She predicted some serious relationships and a couple of breakups, and told one person they would see  _ “The most unexpected thing before next year's end” _ , but she couldn't see what it was,  _ “...or else it  _ would _ be expected.” _

I also got to sing to something other than my room's ongoing soundtrack. I think it likes sad music. It's all it plays. Except tonight when it chose  _ Sacrificial Bonfire _ to torture me.

I didn't see Aggie though, and I kept waiting for Baz to show up and discorporate me, but he never did. (For a while I thought they were somewhere in the woods together, holding hands and sharing kisses, but it only made me feel like crap, so I stopped.)

After the singing and the drinking I went back to my room, hoping to find Baz there, get our first fight over and done with, but it was empty. Still, I didn't want to be surprised, so tried to stay awake, just in case he came back and I had to defend myself.

I must have fallen asleep without my ear plugs because I wake up to the room's blasting of  _ Blue Monday _ . I swear to Agnes, The Room is using Cat Stevens to mock me. This is personal.

It's only six in the morning, but when I turn to look for Baz I realize he never came back. I try to get up, see if his bed's been slept on, but I fall back down. My head feels heavy when I move and I think I might get sick. 

Fuck this.

It's the first day of class and he should be here by now. It's weird that he's not.

I put on my ear plugs and close my eyes until the world isn't gigly anymore. I get up to take a shower, and then head out to breakfast.

I can't believe he's missing the first day of school.

\----------

There's a moment after breakfast when I think I see him walking towards Mummers House with Dev and Niall–but it was just them, no Baz.

We share Greek in third period, and The Minotaur calls his name twice before moving on. When I turned to scout the room to see if he was there and didn't answer I only saw Agatha searching, too–so I stopped. I was hoping to find him back at Mummers, unpacking his case or setting my desk on fire. But when I open the door, it's empty. 

I almost go off when Oasis starts playing.

\----------

Today was a shitty day. The Room is still singing and I might lose my eardrums. (I tried to spell it  **_Silent!_ ** but it started playing  _ Enjoy the Silence _ .) I keep looking through Baz' notes on the spell, but I know nothing about music so half these words are lost to me.

School started two weeks ago and there is still no sign of Baz. He hasn't showed up and everyone is acting like it's not a big deal. Even Niall and Dev act cooly when I ask them.

_ “And why would  _ you _ want to know, Chosen One? So you can go tell the Mage like the little puppy you are?”  _ That was Dev. Niall is much more nice, but he still avoids the question.

_ “Where is Baz?” _

_ “I'm not telling you. You can quit bothering me, Snow.” _

Baz never calls me by my name, so they don't either.

“He is plotting something.” I tell Penny over breakfast at the beginning of our third week. “Why else would he be missing school?”

Penny stops reading her book and turns to glare at me. I think she's trying to look sassy: she has her feet up a chair and her glasses are hanging low on her nose. (Plus, she's eating a red apple with one hand.) I think she would make a good movie villain. The only problem is that she looks awkward as hell, but I don't tell her that.

“ _ Simon… _ You reached your Baz limit of the day, like, ten minutes ago. Please shut up.”

“I can't have! It's only eight...”

“You have.” She says, looking back at her book.

Penny says I am obsessed with Baz, so she made some rules, which I think is bollocks. When you have a mortal enemy they kind of fill up your time, don't they?

“Fine.” I give, “Tell me what happened with Agatha, then.”

That makes her tense up. It's been weird to see them actively avoid each other. (We're doing the same, but Penny didn't see Aggie holding Micah's hands.) ( _ Did she? _ ) (No.)

“Nothing special–she just said she needs space, so I'm giving it to her.”

She takes a sip of tea and her glasses fog up. She cleans them with her cape and puts her cup aside with disdain, then goes back to reading a book on healing flowers.

_ Space _ . I wonder if that means she doesn't want me near, either. 

\----------

**SIMON**

I search through the woods and the fields. I open every door, and then I open them again. I do it every night and when I fall asleep during lessons. I've found some interesting things searching through the grounds of Watford, but not what I'm looking for. 

Not Baz.

Tonight I saw a couple of kids having a moonlight picnic on the rampants. It felt wrong to interrupt them with my sulking, so I came to The Weeping Tower instead. I've been through these rooms before. Seven looking for a white hare. Twice at a party. And now.

Watford is a mysterious, sometimes unknowable place, and that's part of what makes it wonderful; all the moving rooms and secrets it holds make for a great adventure if you choose to explore it. But right now the living statue of Beedle the Bard is not letting me pass through the dark blue door, and it's not as endearing as it used to be.

“What is it that you seek, boy?”

“I'm looking for my missing roommate.” I say, and realize he doesn't know who that is. “Baz. Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”

“And you hope to find him behind these doors, I see.”

“I'm just… looking” This was a bad idea, I can feel my cheeks starting to flush.

“Who  _ is _ he?

“He is like–this tall,” I say, putting my hand above my head. (He carries three inches above me, the bastard.) “He has black hair that falls to his shoulders. He's also really pale, and kind of brooding, but he's got this devil's grin...”

“I don't know who that is, but he sounds  _ lovely. _ ”

“He's not.” I say, “ He's an arsehole.”

The statue frowns and draws back a little, making the room tremble.

“Why do you look for him, then?”

I think a bit and then just shrug, I might as well be honest.

“He promised to make my life a living hell and never came back to do it. He must be plotting something evil, though, and I can't let him get away with it.”

The statue stares for a moment before resting his head on one hand and speaking.

“I can tell you  _ this _ , boy: The only person who ever entered this room is long gone–but if you bring me a book next time, I'll let you pass.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, and start walking back to the main grounds.

When I make it outside the Tower I look up to the White Chapel. For a moment I think there are sparkling lights at the top, behind the stained glass, but in a second they're gone and everything is dark again. Both the Weeping Tower and the White Chapel have been abandoned for a long time; there's an eerie air around them mixed with layers of spells meant to preserve them. I know looking inside was a dumb idea, but Baz has been gone for almost a month now, and I'm running out of places to search. (For him, or clues. Whatever comes first.)

I'm knackered by the time I get to my room, and don't even bother to put on the earplugs. When I wake up the next morning the room is playing  _ Where Did You Sleep Last Night _ by Nirvana. Perfect.

By the time lunch is over I can't keep my eyes open for long and my head starts to hurt–so I skip half my lessons and go back to sleep. Luckily Penny's ear plugs still work because I could do without mockery for an hour.

I wake up in the middle of the night with a cold shiver running up my spine. I see the silhouette of something moving out of the corner of my eye and I think it could be him, that he might be back. But when I turn to look, it's gone. 

I must be going crazy.

I need some air.

I get out of bed, put on a blazer and stride to the rampants. I stay there for a moment, thinking up a new route to reach the heart of the Woods, when a strange gloomy figure appears. I think it may be a ghost, but then  _ she _ turns around. She's wearing a white dress and her hair flows lazily with the wind as she walks towards me. 

Agatha. 

Her cheeks are a bit pinkish, and her eyes are puffed, like she's been crying.

I want to hug her and put a blanket on her shoulders, but I also want to confront her about the Woods and all the hand-holding, and the need of  _ space _ .

“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out angrier than I meant to. Maybe I  _ am _ angry. I haven't really considered it.

“What do you mean, Simon?” She says frowning, “Can't I be here, too??”

“I mean, what are you doing here, alone, in the middle of the night? Aren't you  _ freezing _ ?” It's so cold out here, and she's only wearing a pashmina around her shoulders.

“Why are  _ you _ here, Simon?” She looks annoyed. Beautiful, and annoyed.

“I needed some air.”

“Me too.”

There's a pause and I think we might go to each other, kiss and go back to normal.

“We should break up, Simon.”

It takes me a moment to understand her words, and when I do my heart beats faster. This can't be happening.

“ _ Whut _ !?”

“I said we should break up. I don't think we're right for eachother.” Her voice brakes a little and tear comes down her pretty face. “I don't think we've been right for some time now, actually.”

“Is this because of him?”

“For  _ who _ , Simon?”

“Baz!”

We stare at each other in silence for far too long. It's massively awkward. All I can think of is her and Baz, the way they looked at each other in the woods, the hand holding, the closeness… It wasn't nothing. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“I saw you in the woods, Ags. I saw you holding hands!”

A flash of heat fills me when I realize how dumb I sound, but then Agatha scrunches her face and I think I might be right.

“Simon,  _ stop _ . You're being ridiculous.” There's a scratch in her voice when she speaks. “There is nothing between me and Basil.”

_ Basil. _ The sound of his incomplete name wages on me. We've never called him Basil.

I don't want to do this anymore. I'm tired of fighting over Baz.

“If it isn't  _ him _ , then–” I don't know. “Agatha, you can't do this.”

“I can't do  _ what _ , Simon? I can't choose for myself??”

“No! that's not what I meant! I just–I love you, Agatha. _I_ _love you._ ”

She takes a deep breath before speaking and I can see her crying again.

“I want to be happy, Simon. Don't you want that too?”

“Yes! But I thought we were doing that after the war, together. Like we always said.”

“God, Simon, you sound like my parents. Since when living together on a boring cottage going to make  _ us _ happy? I don't need that, Simon. I don't  _ want _ that.”

“Then what  _ do _ you want, Agatha? ”

Agatha breathes sharply again and my chest hurts like crazy. I can see her thinking, but when she opens her mouth there's nothing behind her tongue. Not a word.

“I'm sorry, I didn't meant to–”

“Shut up, Simon!” She's starting to walk away and I want her to know I didn't mean to ruin this. I didn't… “ Just leave me alone, ok? Don't talk to me just... leave me be.”

“I'm sorry.” I say, but she's too far away to hear.

\----------

I make my way to the woods because I'm not in the mood for music right now, and I don't think I can sleep, either. I need to practice sword, it always helps when I'm anxious.

I hope it helps with this too.

I'm butchering a small tree when a dryad hoovers next to me and tells me to stop. She looks like a victorian anime character, only with a lighter dress; her hair is floating above her, filled with green moss and soft pink flowers. (The Mage once asked me to bring one to him.) (It cost me seven days of shroom trimming to trade for a small rosebud.)

“ _ What do you look for here? _ ”

Baz.

These days I'm always looking for Baz. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm so glad you've read this far!! I'll be updating every friday from now until the end :)  
> It's really lovely of you to be reading this (and me), so don't be shy to comment because I would love to read you too.


	3. CHAPTER THREE: THIS CHARMING MAN

**BAZ**

It's a lovely thursday morning when I blast into the dining hall. Making an entrance has never done me wrong.

I stride through the doors with an  **_“Open Sesame!”_ ** that sends them flying to the sides, and  _ Funky Cold Medina _ playing in my head. Everyone knows I've been missing, so every single head turns to look at me.

I hear a big  _ clankety _ noise coming from the back: Snow is standing in the middle of the diner. He dropped everything in near proximity, including his chair, watching me like an idiot. Bunce looks like she wants to be swallowed and is reaching for him to sit..

There's a sad thing about him. He looks like he does during the first week back, but it's been a month and he should be better by now. It takes every bit of self control I have  _ not _ to stare back, but I manage to slide to my table before causing another, very different scene. 

Dev and Niall are waiting with a warm cuppa tea. I could kill for them right now. They didn't even know I was coming for breakfast.

“Gentleman.” I say, with excessive civility, but I smirk when they turn. “What happened during the last month of my life?”

“Everyone's yakking bout a trip to Ibiza,–” Dev answers That doesn't sound terrible, but unfortunately Dev's got a biscuit half way into his molars and I think I might puke for the first time today.

“Yeah,” Niall follows, “that or joining some occultists.”

He gives Dev a nasty look and shoves a napkin at him.

I've missed Niall, and his ability to be informative and clean at the same time. (Dev can only manage one task at a time.)

They both start arguing about table manners, and I can't help but let my eye slip through them.

Snow's looking at me from across the room. Bunce has managed to sit him down, but his magic is starting to leak and I should step back.

Instead I look at him, because there's nothing else I can do but fuck with myself.

He looks vexed and I can't see Wellbelove anywhere near. I'll text her later.

The smell of smoke is really starting to take off, and I snap back the moment Bunce distracts him, only to see Dev and Niall have settled their lovers quarrel and are now asking something of me. 

“...so what was it, mate?”

“ _ Sorry? _ ” I say, turning back to Nail.

It takes me a second to understand what they're asking. I can tell they're eager to know every detail of my so called “journey”. 

“You can tell us if you want.” Dev moues, showing the lamest puppy eyes I've ever seen. “I mean, Malcom never told me where you were, and I couldn't even talk to Fiona but–”

“It's none of your business.” I say pointedly, but then I get closer: “Although, if you  _ must _ know, I  _ was _ in Ibiza, marrying my dear Hugh Grant on the beach at dawn.”

I can see their faces filling with annoyance and don't hold my grin back.

“There were fairy lights and curry. It was lovely.” 

“Piss off.” That's Dev.

“Fuck you!” And that's Niall.

I never thought I would miss them so much, but here I am: happy to see their ugly faces and mess with their feelings. They exchange a strange look and I excuse myself to get another pot of tea.

The truth is I'm not particularly interested in sharing my story with them, let alone having it spread around. I trust them, I know they wouldn't tell a soul, but I'm pretty sure the walls have ears, and I'm not ready to share what really happened last month. 

When I sit back on my chair, Dev and Niall look almost constipated. Snow's scent has covered the entire dining hall and is making everyone woozy.

I breath in and hold back a smirk.

It's good to be back.

\----------

Snow is prectically  fuming by the time we make it to third period; huffing and puffing like a mediocre bear on a fairy tale, loudly enough for the entire room to hear. 

I can feel his magic closer: thick and heated, like a green log burning on a blazing fire. It's getting out of control, and the students near him are practically  _ swooning _ with it.

Even Bunce is getting caught up. I can see her shaking her head and adjusting her glasses every few minutes.

I feel his eyes on me, so I look back and snear at his stupid golden face.

“Are you alright, Snow? Do you need someone to throw you into the moat so you don't kill us all?” 

Some students laugh and Snow gets flushed and bothered. He looks like he wants to break my nose or choke me, and a smirk threatens to paint my face.

The Minotaur looks pissed though. He walks over to my desk and puts a hand over my papers.

“We are all glad you're back from vacation, Mr. Pitch.” He says, cooly, “But if you plan to catch up with the class, I _urge_ you to be _quiet_.”

I look at the board and see a table filled with roman conjugations I've known since I was twelve. This will be easy.

Snow's magic is getting thicker behind my back. It spreads like a fire, burning low, but close, and it feels like a trap.

“ _ Oi! _ Calm down, mate.” A girl I don't care for just shouted at Simon from the back of the room, making him jump. But instead of eyeing her dreadfully or getting flustered, he closes his eyes and starts taking deep breaths.

It's strangely reassuring to be the only one who can piss him off, but he's not getting out that easy. I wait for him to open his eyes and see me to maintain eye contact for as long as I can. When I hear the minotaur's hooves pounding the floor near me, I give him a wink. It makes skin turn fiery with blush, and I smirk, showing him one teeth before turning back to my paper. 

The smell of his magic takes up again, then I hear a rattle from a chair. Everyone turns around to see him leave the classroom in a hurry. 

Perhaps he  _ will _ go off in the moat, at least he'd do us the favour of killing all those marewolfs. (Those sacks of brainless meat and brutality taste like absolute shite, and almost ate a small boy who fell in last year.)

The Minotaur stomps once to get our attention back, but I can't really care.  It's not the first time I've made Snow leave a room; the problem is that as soon as he leaves, I want him back.

It was stupid of me to push it this hard this fast, but I haven't seen him in months–not in person, anyway–and annoyance is our way: I poke him, he explodes; he pushes me and I snap back untill he's pised. And so on and so forth.

It will always be like this, until we kill each other for good. 

Until he kills me.

It's a sad thought to have, but a realistic one considering I could never live in a world where I've killed Simon Snow.

When the leson's over I head down to the football pitch to ask for my place back into the team, but I don't make it pass the rampants.

Today was better than any other in my last month, but I'll try to get some sleep before starting round two. I think Fiona was right when she said I wasn't ready to leave yet, but hell if I'm going back to Malcom's now. I will feel better by tomorrow.

I needed this.

I needed to come home.

**SIMON**

Baz is here. 

_ Baz _ .

I don't know if it's the lack of sleep, but when he entered the dining hall I thought it was a ghost. It took me a second to realize it  _ was _ him. (He looks paler than usual, but I'd recognize that fucking sneer anywhere.) (Also, no ghost is  _ that _ dramatic.)

I don't know where he's been. (I don't even know why he came  _ back _ .) But, now that he's here, I  _ really _ want punch him in the face.

I accidentally broke my cup getting up my seat, and everyone saw me. Everyone but  _ him _ , of course. He just went about his way and sat down to have breakfast like he wasn't gone to Circe-knows-where for a for a fucking month!

He kept me on edge for the rest of the day, taunting me and snarling, until third period, when he almost managed to make me go off. I was drooling so much magic a kid named Damien had to call me out. I tried breathing after that, but then the arsehole  _ winked _ at me like a damn  _ Romeo _ , and I lost it again.

I was so angry I almost got up and _hit_ _him_ , right on his stupid, crooked nose, like I did on our first year, when I fought him for playing his music too loudly _and_ for having a record player, then _he_ called me a fucking disaster so _I_ – 

And then I remembered.

The Room.

I need to fix The Room.

I stormed out of the classroom and ran to Mummers House, nearly vomiting a lung in the process. When I open the door to our room I see Baz' things piled up on his bed, and his stupid, illegal record player next to it. He must have come here before breakfast, after I'd already left. 

The thought of it is starting to annoy me when I realize:  _ silence _ . There is no music.

So it  _ was  _ Baz. He did all of this. I knew it. He is an arsehole, but at least the music is gone and we can hate each other in silence again. 

I let myself fall in bed, but the moment I feel relaxed the record screech spits on me like it _knows,_ and _I'm Your Man_ starts playing out of the blue. This is bullshit. I don't even understand how it picks the music anymore. I thought it had a nik for sad songs but now I'm pretty sure it just wants to piss me off.

Maybe it only stops for Baz because he created the spell, or maybe it evolved to know how to screw me up harder.

I cover my face with a pillow and groan till I can't hear that stupid song. Everything The Room plays is stupid. When I casted the spell all I could think of was making Penny happy; I didn't even know she liked ABBA that much until then.

Could it just  _ know _ the music from that? Is this supposed to be something  _ I _ want?

Crap. This is a nightmare. Baz is definitely going to think I'm mad for Wham!

**BAZ**

I may have romanticised returning to school between the second and third week of missing it, but lying on my bed this morning was better than I had hoped. I sneaked into our bedroom knowing Snow would be at breakfast to unpack my bags, but all I could do was rest for a moment. 

I won't say last month was a stroll down a valley. Getting kidnaped and locked in a coffin by some idiot numpties won't ever count as happy times. 

But it's over now. It's behind me.

If I want to be head of the class and graduate with a perfect record I can't let it follow me here.

It was almost a thing of nothing, really. I was leaving the club when something hit me in the head and knocked me out. The next thing I knew I was trapped in a little box with cero room to move and an awful smell of garbage all around me. There was no sound, no light, no  _ anything _ except for the mild beating of my half-dead heart.

One time they opened the lid, and I tried to rip their throats out, but they knocked me out again. When I woke up there was a bag of blood with a straw in my hand, almost like a Capri Sun for vampires. It was like that for a week or so, until my aunt Fiona found me.

I spent the rest of the month in Malcom's house while I recovered, feeling his disappointment swoon around me like a fly. But that wasn't a problem. I would have been more scared if he'd tried to act nicely. The real problem were the thoughts that came hoarding in the dark. After a while of being half buried I began to wonder if I was even alive to begin with, if there  _ was _ something left of me to save.

I wondered if my mother would allow such a life. She died the day I was turned. A Vampire attack in Watford's nursery took my mother and made me a creature on the brim of death. 

In the darkness of the coffin I would dance with the idea, see how much I could push to the other side. And whenever I got too close to it, I would go over Mordelia's attempt at making a good playlist for my birthday. How she made sure to add Bowie and Byrne. I'd remember Fiona's shot at being a decent human being by showing up on christmas the year my mother died. (She gave me a Paddington bear and set her will into having me stay in her flat for a while.) I thought of my mother, reading to me in her office, teaching me about magic and fire.

And when that wasn't enough–when everything around me was quiet, and I could scarcely listen to my weak-beating heart–I would picture  _ him _ .

I'd picture his pale blue eyes, surrounded with bronze curls and moles like insults to my reason.

The beam of sun that is Simon Snow, even when I'm around.

That I love him. That I am desperately, hopelessly,  _ painfully _ in love with him.  
  


**BAZ**

I've known for a while now, that I love him.

It started as a little crush. I tried to think of it as another step of having a mortal enemy, just a product of our intense rivalry–but it evolved without my permission, until one day he smiled and I got a boner.

It kept getting worse until I realized I would be the saddest bastard on earth if he died.

I think about how killing us is inevitable, and how, when the time comes, he will proudly call his sword and stab me in the heart with it, like he's supposed to. I could rip him to pieces if I wanted to, I'm stronger than him and I am far better with my wand, but I don't think I could live long after that.

(Pathetic, I know.) (I blame my father for gifting me the Arthurian Legends.) (And Germany for  _ Sturm und Drang. _ )

Then sometimes I think I'll kiss him right before I die. He'll be decent enough not to discard me after the stabbing is done, and if he gets close enough I could leave a bloody kiss on his lips and  _ go _ , be done with it. 

Whatever the outcome is, well see it soon. I just hope to get some rest before that.

\----------

I walk back to Mummers after speaking to my football coach. I've only missed a month of school (and some could say I'm the best player on the team), but still Coach put me on probation until I can prove I'm serious about returning. It was a disappointment, but I didn't push. Getting through a full day of class is being harder than I thought: my vision is cloudy and it is hard for me to stand up straight without leaning like a drunk man.

When I make it to the top of the stairs, right outside of our bedroom, I stop. There is a spell on our door to prevent outsiders from listening to what's going on inside, mainly because the Mage  _ hates _ fun and I like listening to music. But if I'm still enough I can hear past it. (One of the perks of super vampirism.) I use that to know if Snow's inside.

There's a rattle and a  _ thunk _ , muffled by a screeching sound. I can hear him cursing in a thick, Glaswegian accent. _Strange_.

I hear another  _ clank _ and burst in.

He jumps, scared, and holds on to the cross on his neck. I'm about to shatter him for having someone here without my consent–when I notice that the room is empty. I don't know what he did during summer, but this is next level of loony.

“Snow...” I start, slow, because he looks feral and I don't want him to bite my ear off.  He looks back, opening his mouth as I close the door behind me, when another screech fills the room and we both cover our ears.  _ Hopeless _ by Khalid starts playing.

“What the  _ fuck _ is this, Snow!?” I bark, taking my hands off my ears.

“I don't know, you tell me!”

“What?”

“This is  _ your _ spell!” He spits, and I have no idea what he means by that. “ _ You _ should know how to fix it.”

He scrambles through the room (which is a mess, by the way) and picks up a red notebook from the floor near my bed. My music notes. He must have used a try-out spell, the unredeemable idiot. 

“Here,” He says, opening it and giving it to me. The page is a bit messy but I remember what I was going for: a spell that could play music without an electronic device. I was planning on using it inside the Mages office–my mother's old office–and watch him go mad trying to find the source. I never intended to have an anti-spell, but then again, I didn't have a need for it: the spell never worked.

“ _ You _ casted  _ this _ on our bedroom.” I say, tossing the notebook aside.

“Yes, I–”

“ _ You _ took  _ my _ notebook and casted an irrevocable spell, on  _ our _ bedroom.”

I watch his eyes grow big with the word  _ irrevocable _ and feel my chest flutter a bit. He is an idiot, but he is the most beautiful idiot I know.

“Yes, but I– Penny was crying, I just wanted to–”

I raise my eyebrow and he shuts up, realizing what he's done.

“Bunce was here." I say, "Interesting…”

Snows face begins to redden and his magic rises up. I'm too tired for a fight right now, but  _ Merlin _ he looks ready for it, and I'm not one to disappoint.

“You can't prove it.” He's standing with his jaw clenched and closed fists. He looks ravishing and I can't help but to stare down at him. Hopefully he'll take it as a threat.

Before any of us breaks the Anathema, the screech comes back and  _ Sugar on My Tongue _ starts playing. A sudden cold creeps up my back as I remember _why_ the spell never worked for me. It was meant to pick the music from your mind, but legeremancy takes too much work, even for a mage like me.

Of course it would be nothing for Simon _bloody_ Snow.

“Bugger” I say under my breath. If life is as shitty to me as it has proven to be, the spell Simon casted on the room allows it to prick into your mind and play the song most fitting to whatever it finds there. I'm paralyzed with dread, but Snow has turned to the ceiling and is cursing at it like a mad man during traffic.

“Get tae fuck ye wee  _ shite _ !!”

I can't help but to chuckle at that, and he turns to me with a creeping blush before tugging at his hair.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, “We've sorta been fighting for a month and I'm at the end of my wits here.”

“ _ We? ” _

“Yeah, y'know… _The Room_? It's kind of an arsehole if you ask me.” He says, and he looks impossibly childish for the rude bloke he is. “I don't really know how, but it changes songs every so often and it's  _ fucking annoying _ .” He flips off the ceiling to punctuate his last words and I barely manage to hold back a smile.

“How do you sleep?”

“Penny spelled some earplugs for me.”

So Bunce knows and they still haven't fixed it. That's not good. If every song the room picks talks about teenage arousal and getting kissed into next tuesday, well…

“So you manage to make a dull spell work, but you can't charm your own earplugs? You're a fucking disaster.”

“Sod off!” He spits with a frown before going to the bathroom and locking the door. 

I remove my tie and let my eyes close when the shower starts running.

I feel my limbs aching again and remember how much I need my bed. I take off my pants and shirt and crawl into my blankets. I'll regret not wearing a shirt later when I'm cold, and in the morning, when Simon opens the curtains and the sun bothers my skin.

I think of him in the morning, waking up and rushing out to breakfast. I think about his hair in the sun and the three moles on his cheek. (The ones I've wanted to kiss since fourth year, and lick since fifth.) I want to bite them right now, and I wonder if the Anathema would mind.  I wonder if Simon would mind.

I wonder if he'd let me have him before we both go up in flames.

The shower stops and the room screeches again.  _ Here Comes The Sun _ starts playing softly and I'm certain this spell will be my undoing.  I groan and turn to face the wall so I don't see Simon leave the shower. I find it impossible, but if he ever manages to connect the dots right I will be completely done for.

**THE MAGE**

_ Fuck. _

**SIMON**

When I come out of the shower Baz is already asleep. For a moment I thought it was all a dream–that the room would be empty when I came out–but he is right there, snoring through a Beatles song. (He denies it every time, but he can snore like a cow when he's tired.)

I'm watching him (making sure he isn't faking it to annoy me), when I step on a pencil. The Room is a mess: there are school books scattered on the floor, surrounded by clothes, and more pencils dangerously close to my bed floor. I decide to deal with it before I hurt myself again.

Today was a disaster, but it was less murderous than I'd anticipated. Still, Baz is back and I have to figure out what he's been plotting for the past month or so. I don't know where he's been, but he wouldn't have come back without a reason.

An evil reason. 

It takes me a minute to put everything I threw into a tidy corner.  When I'm done clearing the floor a cold wind catches me. I'm not wearing any clothes and it hits me how easy it would be for my towel to drop below my bums right now. It's still early and dinner is only five minutes away, so I pick up my uniform and get dressed in the bathroom. I'm still embarrassed from when Baz heard me curse like I do in care, I don't need him to wake up and catch me stark naked as well.

I leave The Room and head down to The Cloisters to see if I can meet Penny before dinner. When I get there she's already waiting for me.

“So, how is Evil Incarnated?” She snarks. Calling Baz ' Evil Incarnated' is a third year joke, but there is a real concern behind her glasses. I frown at her and she loses her grin.

“Was it _that_ bad?”

“Well, he was pissy about the room, called me a disaster...”

“So, everything normal then.”

“No!”

“ _No?”_

“I mean– _ yes _ . For now. But I think he's plotting something.” Penny looks at me funny. She always gets annoyed when I talk about Baz, but lately her endurance has been thinner.

“Did he solve it?”

“No, actually. He just fell asleep.”

She nods once and starts walking. I guess the conversation about my twilight-y roommate and potential assassin coming back is over for now, but maybe we'll talk it over dinner.

We walk into the diner, grab some food and head down to our table. (It's not ours ours, but _it_ _is_ , in a way. Like that couch in _Friends_.)

I look around the room to see if Baz woke up and made it down. We kind of skipped lunch, so I guess he must be hungry, but all I see are Dev and Niall, eating stew and laughing.

“Simon,” Penny says, catching my attention. “We need to talk about Agatha.”

“What about Agatha?”

“Why didn't you tell me you broke up?”

Oh, I didn't. I guess there's a lot I haven't told her lately, which is weird because we talk about everything.

“I'm sorry, Pen.”

“Don't be! I'm only mad because it was Keris who told me. She saw you two arguing and then talked to Ags.” She sounds nonchalant, and it stings trough my gut. 

“I actually think it's amazing, Si. You both looked miserable.”

“No, we didn't! We were perfectly happy!!”

I can't believe Penny is saying this. She of all people know how much our relationship meant. She was there all the time.

“Calm down, Simon.” I can feel my magic rising a little, and I may have raised my voice too much, so I take a deep breath and burn my tongue with tea. “All I'm sayin is– I don't think you were happy. And I don't think  _ she _ was happy.”

“But relationships don't  _ just _ make you happy. They can be hard, Pen.”

She eyes me like I've just tried to explain what a giant is.

“I know, Simon. But not  _ all _ the time.” There is a sweetness to what shes saying now, like she just realized something and is trying to be soft about it.

“You know I went to visit Micah this summer, and it was amazing. But we weren't  _ just _ happy, Si.” There is a little crack in her voice that is usually reserved for sad occasions. “Not all summer long, not all day or every day, but we had rough times. Relationships are hard, and  _ distance _ is hard. But still, I think happiness fills us both.”

There's a long pause and I can feel a shiver on my skin. 

“Can you honestly tell me it's like that with Agatha?”

I stay quiet for a minute. I'm trying to think about all the good times we've had, and how much I love her–but I don't think it's anything like that.

“Do you think she would feel the same?”

_ Happy? _ No.

I let out a short sigh and try to give Penny a reassuring smile before standing up to get more scones in my plate. I don't want her to think I'm angry for this. I'm just… confused. We almost never talk about Micah, or her plans to move to America, and we don't talk about relationships either. (I guess the only relationship we do talk loads about is me and Baz, but it's mostly me ranting, and only because he's a major twat.)

I come back to the table and sit as she puts down her book. She gives me a smile and holds my hand in hers.

Penny can be painfully direct, and sometimes I forget she is the best person in the world, but she never takes long to remind me.

There is a lot I have to tell her, but for now I'll settle with eating buttered scones in silence.

\----------

When I return to the room I see Baz never woke up. His things are still on the ground and apparently he couldn't be bothered to wear a shirt, which means he'll complain about the cold in the morning.

I brought a red apple from the diner, but I won't eat it. I leave it on his side of the nightstand and put on my pajamas before turning off the light.

I'll deal with the world tomorrow.

**BAZ**

I wake up to the sound of drawers being shut and stomping on the ground. My skin feels prickly and I can see the sun coming in from the window.

I must have slept through the night, then.

My stomach growls and I count three days since I drank my last bag of blood. That's not too many days, but after the kidnapping, even an hour feels like too much.

Contrary to popular believe and crappy fetish films, I do eat regular food–I just happen to require the occasional blood snack as well. I am also not allergic to sunlight  _ or _ garlic, and if you throw around some seed pits I won't feel any urge to count them all.

I am, however, prone to extreme pining, and the need to murder whoever wakes me up. But I don't consider those vampire things, just me things.

“Are you done getting ready or will I have to stand your elephant stomps for another hour?” I snap. Simon gasps and turns to me a bit shocked.

“What, forgot I'm here?”

He stares back for a moment, and I use it to bask in his image. His hair is sticking out and the sun reflects on his bronce curls. He looks gorgeous.

“Why  _ are _ you here?” He asks, frowning, and two of his moles collide on his brow. 

_ Here Comes The Sun _ is still playing, making this ironically unbearable to me.

“ _ Oi _ , bit rude, aren't we? You kiss your mother with that tongue?”

That sets him off. I can tell I've hit a nerve by his squared up shoulders and clenched jaw. It's usually quite a show, but I may be too exhausted to fully enjoy it. 

“Fuck. Off.”

“Whatever you say,  _ Great One _ .” I try to put in as much poison as I can, but my energy flails and it only comes out half-bitchy.

Apparently it's enough.

Simon storms out of the room with his tie still undone and a shoe on one hand. If it weren't for our (very public) hostility and legendary rivalry, people would think we were shagging, but one can only dream.

The room does me the horrendous favour of mindinf that thought and screeces loud as shite.

_ Eat Me Alive _ starts blasting in my ears.

“Really?  _ Judas Priest!? _ ” I shout from under the covers. “Thought you had better taste than that.” The room only gets louder and I regret every decision that led me to this point.

I need to feed soon, or I'll be walking with a headache for the rest of the day.

I get up, get dressed, and I'm ready to leave in less than ten minutes, but when I turn to grab my tie from the nightstand there is an apple over it.

I think it's Simon's, but he could never walk away from a meal, much less leave one complete, and it's very clearly on my side of the table.

He must have brought it here then, and left it for me.

The thought of that apple being for  _ me _ , that he brought it back from dinner because he knew I'd be hungry, is just too good to be true. And far too much to handle this time of day.

There is another screech and  _ Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've) _ starts playing.

I will disintegrate this room to dust.

“If you don't stop being such a prick I swear I will come back with twenty blinkin'  _ rats  _ and have them mate inside your walls!”

I grab my things with extreme force as the room ups the volume. 

“I swear it. Twenty fucking rats!” I shout and leave, apple in hand.

I feel the urge to toss it into the moat, or bite it and spit it on his pillow, just for toying with my emotions–but I don't. Even if I go down to the Catacombs right now, I'll miss breakfast, and I'm extremely hungry. 

My breakfast was rather quick and terrifying. I could only drain three rats before the darkness overwhelmed me and I had to run out of there.

It's actually brilliant: a vampire who's afraid of the dark. What a joke. At least Fiona would be laughing right now.

I saved the apple for the end to get the taste of blood off my mouth. I don't actually mind drinking blood but rats are rather gross and leave a trashy after-taste. (I assume human blood would taste better, but I'm not willing to prove that.)

Halfway into the day I decided  _ not _ to take twenty rats back to my room–since I don't want to go back there alone–and because it would be stupid to do so.

I also decided to end the spell once and for all.

I can charm myself some earplugs, but I can't risk Simon learning the truth. He already knows the room has some sort of telekinesis, and even someone as thick as him can figure out the meaning of a hundred love songs.

I'm walking to my last lesson of the day when I see a flash of something that isn't normal.

Right in the middle of the grounds a silhouette appeared. At first it looked like a hologram, but then it took a more ghost-like appearance. I have my wand in hand, and I'm waiting for the sucking feeling of a Humdrum attack, but it doesn't come–only a young girl running towards the thing. When she reaches it, she clenches to it like it was a life saver. 

“ _ What the fuck _ ?”

“Oi, Baz!” Niall is calling from behind me.

“What is that?” I ask, nodding at the girl when he's close enough to hear.

“The ghost?” He asks.

A ghost. A  _ Visiting _ . I forgot that was happening this year. I can see clearer now: the spectrum is a woman, and she's hugging what appears to be her nice or something. They both have the same afro and look really similar, so maybe it's her mother.

A sucking feeling strikes me and I my stomach feels like returning my breakfast.

“So, whaddya think? Old family secret or normal  _ I-love-you _ stuff?” Dev has caught up and I turn back from the girl.

“Are you ok, mate?” Niall is looking at me with strangely green coloured eyes.

“What the fuck did you do to yourself?” I ask, shocked to see his brown eyes gone, and happy to avoid the question.

A blush creeps up his face and he looks away. Dev holds his arm reassuringly, but I can tell he's trying not to laugh.

“Go on mate.” Dev says, “Tell him.”

Niall doesn't look back at me and a smile almost escapes me. He acts like a child that's been caught stealing candy, and it's an impressive sight on a 6'2 tall lad.

“Well, you know how I've always liked that thing when your eyes change colour?”

He looks sheepish and I nod to keep him talking. Meanwhile, Dev has stopped pretending to be nice, and a devilish grin is filling his face.

“And you know how much I love mood rings,” Niall continues.

No. No fucking way.

Dev is a second away from howling when Niall turns back to look at me. His eyes have changed from a greenish blue to an embery colour, and he's smiling shyly.

“Well,” He says, “What do you think?” He's asking as if he were trying on a new pair of jeans, not as if he just made his eyes fucking windows to his soul.

“I can't believe we'll be able to tell when you have to shit.”

Dev's laughter explodes through his nostrils and he abandons Niall's arm to kneel on the ground.

“ _ You can tell that _ !?” Niall looks like he will actually shit his pants now. “You can't, can you?”

Dev is laughing his arse off and I'm right with him, feeling every bone in my body shake.

When I turn to check on Niall I see that he is smiling at us. His eyes are blue now, with little specks of purple here and there. It actually doesn't look bad.

“Hey, mate.” Dev says, standing back up. “You look awesome.” He is still giggling, but his arm is back around Niall.

“ _ Really _ ?”

“Like Elizabeth Taylor,” I say. “If she was lanky and a ginger.”

“You piece of arse.” Niall says before he and Dev fall on eachother, and for a moment I feel like something's missing, but I'm happy to have them back.

I spend the rest of the day with them, catching up with their latest affairs and avoiding my own. 

When I go back to my room at night Snow is already there. He stands from his bed when he sees me and puts a finger on his mouth, then points at his ears.  Chet Baker is playing softly in the background.  I drop my bag on the ground and he shakes his arms like a traffic officer. There's a notebook on his nightstand and he grabs it to scribble something in it.

**_SHHHHH_ **

I raise one eyebrow, so he snorts and writes again.

DONT MAKE IT ANGRY

I raise up my hands like an innocent thief and he points at his **_SHHH_** sign again. I just roll my eyes and mark an X over my heart. He stares at me for a moment, then shrugs and falls on his back.

I move to my dresser slowly and then to the bathroom, taking some nightclothes with me.  When I come out, Snow's eyes are closed. His mouth is open (mouth breather), and I can hear a soft humming under his breath.

Apparently he likes this. I never thought of him as a person who would like jazz.  (Country, Yes. But jazz? No.)  A small sigh escapes his lips, and a dreadful blush jumps me. This is personal, secret.  I think I'd rather have the heavy metal back.

I move over to my bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. When I get under the covers Snow opens his eyes and looks back at me.

“I'm going to turn the light off now.” He says, and the room stops singing.

There's a pause in time and we both turn to look at eachother, holding our breaths. There is a soft veil of tension between us, but it has nothing to do with  _ us _ . At least, not like we're used to.

The room screeches and the song plays again.

We stay with our eyes locked for a second and there's enough blood in my sistem to get my heart racing.

I remember instant combustion is a thing, and I'm starting to beg for it before I do something stupid like saying good night, when Snow breaks the moment. He turns off the lights and flops down into his mattress without looking back, leaving me aghast and breathless.

I cannot count the number of nights I've stayed like this: watching him in the dark, thinking of all the ways we could not be enemies, and all the reasons we  _ are _ ; creating dreams and shattering them myself before morning.

I can't do that now. I can't even think of him without the chance of being exposed, and I don't believe there is anything more rude than being denied the courtesy of daydreaming.

I'm in the middle of replacing every soft thought I have with an immeasurable amount of cussing, when I hear Simon clear his throat.

“Night.” He mutters so quietly only a vampire could hear.

“ _Mgck_...” I hate myself. I swallow a knot to try again, but I've forgotten every word there is.  “Good night.”

There's a small ruffle on his bed and I can see he is curling up with his back towards me. I let out a sigh and close my eyes for the night.

The room turns down the volume and I dream of Simon Snow surrounded by stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy! sorry for the time, it was a crazy day and I almost forgot it was friday!  
> I just realized this is almost and entirely Baz chapter so I hope it makes up from missing hm on the first two.  
> Thank you so much for reading this far and don't forget I'd love to read you too :)  
> Until next week!!
> 
> Ps. Sugar On My Tongue is an excellent song by the Talking Heads and you should def check it out.


	4. CHAPTER FOUR: A RUSH AND A PUSH AND THE LAND IS OURS

**AGATHA**

Isn't it ridiculous how much of your life is made under someone else's wishes?

Back home I am the strange girl who goes to an uber-religious school for ten months a year, and says weird things like  _ “Merlin and Morgana!”. _ Here, I'm seen as the girl in amber, forever the damsel in distress, waiting for someone else to go and rescue her from a talking pit, or a flaming lake. 

I made none of those choices, they were all made for me: my parents choose Watford, and Simon chose me. Sometimes I feel it will always be like that for me.

I'm not kissing Simon, though, aren't I?

He told me he loved me and I believed him, but I couldn't do it anymore. I  _ do _ love him, I love him lots–but I don't want to kiss him. I'm not sure how long I haven't  _ wanted _ him, but ever since an actual dragon showed up and tried to eat him during our first year, a certainty that I could lose him settled, and everything that's happened since has managed to make it stronger.

I kissed him then, because I was afraid of missing him forever, and I kept kissing him because we worked. I was twelve and signing myself into a relationship with Xs and Os, all because it  _ looked _ right. Real love came after, or at least the desire to  _ be _ in love.

Until now.

I'm walking near The Chapel when a tall girl catches my eye. She was standing with her friends and suddenly took off running. For a moment I think there's an attack, until I realize she's running towards  _ something _ . All of her friends are looking at her, and one of them grabs her bag and puts it on her shoulder.

I look around to see where she went, and I spot her lovingly hugging a foggy figure.

I recognize the girl, her name is Dani and she's a year younger. She was trying out for lacrosse, but she stopped showing up a couple of weeks ago. I don't know who's Visiting her, but I feel like I shouldn't be watching this. I wouldn't like it the other way around.

I'm starting to walk again when someone else moves, but this time they fall to the ground. It's Dev, and Niall is right besides him, with Baz. 

_ Baz is back. _

Before I know it I'm already far away.

To clarify, I'm not running from Baz Pitch, but it wouldn't be the  _ worst _ thing if we didn't talk right now, with his friends so near. 

I'll invite him for tea later, if he's not too busy. I know he likes sugary chai, so I'll have to get some from the kitchen, but we can go to the fields and sit under my tree, far away from nosey people. There's something we need to talk about, and I don't want anyone spreading rumours that could hurt us.

Being Simons girlfriend, I spend literal  _ years _ listening to him rant about Baz being a vampire. (I heard it so much I had a constant dream where him and Robert Pattinson became best friends and drank blood slushies together.) But when I saw Baz in the woods, summoning a dove, it took me a minute to realize what was about to happen.

I gasped when he killed the dove and sunk his fangs on it.

When he turned around there was a small drip of blood coming from the corner of his mouth–but it couldn't faze me. I had imagined the scenario at least a dozen times: pretty Baz Pitch and I, looking into eachothers eyes, realizing our deepest desires. Maybe even kissing.

Only when I looked into his eyes, I saw fear.

I knew what I wanted, then.

I walked closer to him–close enough to smell the dove's blood–and I grabbed his hands in mine. When I spoke, my own words crashed in my head. I was being honest for once, and it felt good. I spoke from the heart and realized what it meant for myself.

Then I saw Simon disappear with Penny, and everything changed.

They were taken by The Humdrum, and nobody knew where they where. My parents went crazy when they thought I was with them, and mom pressed The Mage until he allowed me to wrap up the year and go home.

I was at The Club when they came back, and had to hear it from the gossip ladies at the elders table. When Mrs. Salisbury described it I almost passed out. (She heard it second hand, and exaggerated half of it, but the real story of how they looked wasn't prettier.)

By then, Baz was already avoiding the subject. And me.

I didn't really mind not talking: I meant what I said, and if he wanted the Vegas Rule to apply to us, it was fine by me.

I had come to terms with having an abominable summer surrounded by old ladies, but Minty made sure we had an  _ amazing _ time hanging around town, riding a borrowed car and curing our hangovers with orange juice and Clamato.

Absolutely none of her ideas involved hunting down werewolves or risking our lives, and I  _ lived _ for that. (Although we  _ did _ snuck out for a  _ Rocky Horror Picture Show _ a few towns over, and mum almost killed me.)

I was enjoying vacationing without the need for magic or  _ drama _ , when he stopped me at the club one morning and invited me to a tennis match. After I beat him we went for lunch, and after that we hung around more often. It was living a secret, but I was getting good at that.

I even took him to the movies with Minty once, but she wasn't impressed. Said he was too pouty and snobbish and spent the entire night trying to make him laugh. (Which only made him pout more.)

It was weird when he stopped replying to my texts the day before school started. After a week I just assumed he wouldn't show. But now he's here and I have a million questions.

Having a life outside of Watford is one of my favourite things, and I didn't really wanted the summer to be over.

I almost told my parents I wasn't coming back, and I need to know why he did.

  
  
  


**PENNY**

I never thought I'd see the day and yet Simon is talking about refusing a direct order from The Mage. 

When he told me there was something important he wanted to talk about, I thought he meant Humdrum stuff, or war stuff. Not rebelling stuff. 

I actually like it. 

I admire The Mage's reforms and but he's not the most reliable mentor. (Or an actual mentor at all, if you ask me.)

He can give an inspiring speech and make you feel for a revolution, but that revolution happened over a decade ago, and you need more than courage to keep morale going. You need a system to support you, and he's pretty rubbish at that.

Simon and I have been behind every plan he's gotten since our first year, making sure to follow through and give nice and accurate reports, yet I feel like he's never there for Simon. Not really, anyways. He keeps sending him back to  _ whateverplace _ every summer, and often disappears during the school year. 

The idea of Simon being alone in a secret safe house makes me think he would die of thirst, so I don't hold back when is my turn to speak.

“Is he completely mental!?”

“ _ Pen!! _ ”

“I mean, how could he think sending you away was in any way a decent plan!?”

“I know, that's what I told him.”

“Really??”

“Well, not like  _ that _ .” He looks embarrassed. “I almost went off on him.”

Oh.

“Simon...”

“I didn't, though. Just, blacked out a bit.”

“Why didn't you tell  _ me _ ?”

I would have done something.

“You were busy with Agatha, then Baz went missing and I sort of... forgot.” 

“He wasn't missing, he just took a long time vacation.”

“If he was vacationing, he'd at least have a tan.”

I give him a funny look and hope it's enough to change subject. He gets like the Mad Hatter talking about Baz. He could go on for hours if I don't stop him.

“You should see how he looks, Pen.”

“Huh?”

“There is this,  _ thing _ over him. He's grayer than usual and he hasn't been such a wanker lately.” He's getting on a roll. Brilliant. “Yesterday, in our room, things weren't so harsh, and–”

“Simon, stop. Daily limit reached.”

“I'm just saying, something happened and it–”

“ _ Si _ .”

He grumbles a bit but doesn't push much more. I think I should shut up for a bit, or I will give him more cues to go on. I also like the silence when I'm with Simon; it's never awkward. There's only a handful of people I can say that about, and I think I should count Agatha out. I guess I'm down to two friends, then. 

I really miss her, though. even at times when I wouldn't think of her before, like right now. We're in the base of the Weeping Tower laying against its wall, just watching people go by their day, and I'm cold all over. Usually I would be seated in the middle and she would fuss about my cape not being enough cover.

I scoot closer to Simon so there isn't air running between us, but my left side's still cold.

I suppose two sometimes isn't enough.

  
  
**BAZ**

When I enter the room  _ (Nothing But) Flowers  _ is playing, making my murderous feelings wage a little. This whole situation is a nightmare, but believing the room will at least be tasteful when it outs me is a small win. 

I spent the entire weekend in Niall and Devs room, and I still haven't figured a way to stop the spell, but I plan to spend the least amount of time possible here. I already asked them for a study group to catch up on the semester. (Not that I need it, but it's a decent excuse.) And I intend to seek out Wellbelove.

I never thought we'd be friends, then she saw me fed and caught onto my biggest secret in the world (well,  _ second _ biggest), and I thought my life was over.

It was stupid to be feeding in daytime, but in my defence it had been an excruciatingly long day: Snow had been on my trail all week and Fiona was ringing my cell phone to shit on the Mage's newest reform every five minutes. I needed a break. I went to the woods to get a quick snack and she followed me like a bride on a shitty romance novel. 

I only noticed her because she gasped as I bit into the dove I'd summoned.

When I turned around–fangs still out and scared as shit–she didn't scream. She just stared back. I feared she would run, that she would go to tell the Mage and I would be dead before supper.

Instead, she stepped slowly towards me and held my hands between hers.

“You don't have to be afraid.” She said, “I won't tell them. I promise.”

There was something strange thing in the way she said it, like she meant it in a greater sense. 

After that we heard a rattle and a sucking sound. We looked back just as Snow disappeared into thin air. I later figured out Bunce was with him, but in that moment all I could think was  _ ‘what the fuck!?’. _

We looked for the Mage immediately, but I didn't stay to talk. I left her to handle that second hand Robin Hood prick and went back to our room.

I was about to casually call my aunt Fiona to ask for some tracking spells, keys to the Jaguar in hand, when she ringed me with the wonderful news of the Chosen One's disappearance.

_ “Baz, did you know? Why didn't you tell me??” _

It took me a second to compose myself. Fiona can be too much sometimes.

_ “He's really gone, huh?”  _ I answered, _ “Here I thought it was dream.” _

_ “Well, you better believe it, boyo. Our dreams are coming true.” _

Fiona is as acid as they come. At thirteen I confirmed hunger and rage are her entire emotional spectrum, and that she's the biggest pain in the arse I know.

She's my favourite attempt of an adult and I love her to death. 

_ “Lucky us.” _ I said, trying to sound bored, but not suspiciously bored.

_ “Wait, your father just told me the mage is organizing a search party. Apparently he  _ does _ want his pupper back.” _

There was nothing I could do, then. I told Fiona I was busy and hung up on her. I made sure the room was still sound proof and tuned my music all the way up.

_ “I own nothin' more than the ground that I sit on _

_ So I make myself comfortable 'cause I'm the king of the Earth” _

I tried to fill my head with songs to forget that sucking sound–but all I could think about was Snow, adrift somewhere. 

_ “Did you even notice Armageddon came and went?” _

I pictured him alone and scared–but it didn't fit. I thought about him fighting, clawing his way up a den or swinging his sword at an invisible enemy.

_ “Out, damn light” _

I imagined him winning and losing. Killing and being killed.

_ “Out, damn light” _

I saw him dead. And I saw him alive. _So alive…_

_ “Out, damn light” _

They were gone for four days.  When they came back, in the middle of a school assembly, everyone screamed. They were a mess, with twigs in their hair and dirt all over. And they were covered in blood.

I didn't screamed, but the sight and smell were almost too much for me–so I left. 

It wasn't until weeks later that I ran into Wellbelove at the club and decided it was a good idea to talk. She turned out to be a good match in tennis and a decent companion at brunch. 

Apparently there  _ is _ more to her than being Snows princess. She likes sports, for starters–and Normals. We did more Normal things during the summer than I had ever done before. It was exhausting, but I take shopping over staying at Malcom's any day.

Dev went on about being her elocution partner earlier (and how he was  _ definitely _ not interested in her anymore), so she must be around, and she must know I'm back. 

This is confirmed when I open my phone and check on my texts.

(16:25)  _ Welcome back.  _

(16:25)  _ Want to have some tea? _

I text back thinking of a place our meeting won't be a big deal. If we are going to be seen together I need to be in control of it.

(18:06) **Behind The Cloisters. 7.**

(18:09)  _ Sure.  _

I lock my phone and begin to undress. Last night I missed my shower, and I'm not a beast who ‘ **Clean As A Whistle’** 's his way through life. Unlike others.

My shirt is halfway undone and I've taken off my belt when the door opens and Simon enters the room. I turn around, frowning.

“Can't you knock?”

There is a slight panic in his eyes, and for a second it looks like he's eyeing my cleavage. But it may just be wishful thinking. He doesn't respond.

“Cat got your tongue?” I say without magic, but he flinches anyway. I used to spell him shut a lot, and it always made him cry. I haven't done it in years, though.

There's a look of defiance in his eyes, but I turn around before he can speak.

“I'm taking the shower, and I'd be a blessing if you were gone when I finish.”

“Whatever.” He's mumbling but I manage to understand.

I get into the shower and turn up the heat until it pricks at my skin. David Byrne is still singing and I take my time to enjoy the moment. I let my mind wander and examine every second of our last conversation. Simons eyes trailing down my chest. his lack of words and the small blush I thought I saw. His lips, always slightly parted and always pink and glossy. 

I have to turn the shower cold.

When I exit–fully dressed–Snow is in his desk, looking miserable.

I try to move past him towards my shoes. I have to meet Wellbelove in less than ten minutes and walking out of Mummer's takes at least five.

“I have a problem.” Simon is looking at me from his seat and I try to tie my laces faster.

“You think I care?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Why would any of your problems be my concern?”

“Because it's The Room.” There's a pause and a sigh. “I don't know how to fix it.”

“No shit.” I scoff at him, grabbing my blazer and wand. 

“–And I guess you don't, either. So that involves you.” He's got me there. He's also getting into fight-mode, and if I don't derail it soon it will become one.

“I don't know what makes you say that. I love having a constant soundtrack to my life.” I say, with too much enthusiasm. 

“Cut the bullshit. You hate it just as much as I do, and that makes it  _ your _ problem, too.” 

There is a loud screech and I'm sure I've gone deaf from it. Snow's hands go to cover his ears, but I try my best not to flinch and show weakness.

_ Paranoid _ by Black Sabbath starts paying, and I make a run for it. I leap to the door before Snow realizes what I'm doing and stands.

“Oi! Come back!”

I shut the door on his face and leap down the stairs. Luckily he's too slow, and I'm out and about in less than a minute.

It was incredibly childish of me, and I can't imagine I was graceful at all, but it worked. I'll be in time for meeting Wellbelove and deal with Simon later, after he's had dinner.

I wait for a minute when I get to The Cloisters in case Bunce is around before heading towards the back. When I turn the corner a see a pale figure resting on the wall, and I slow my pace. Wellbelove turns to me and smiles beautifly.

“Basil.”

“Wellbelove.”

She's holding a bag on one and and a blanket on the other, and she moves to fist my shoulder. 

“Don't be a nag. It's good to see you.”

“It's good to see you, too.” I mean it. “How are the horses?”

Her eyes roll back and she starts walking forward, away from the wall and light.

“We have better things to talk about.”

I think we're going to sit near the rampants. I'm thinking of using a small  **_‘Let There Be Light’_ ** on the tree leaves, but it might look romantic and call attention to ourselves

“Don't worry, I won't kill you.” She says when I don't move. “And I brought a flashlight.”

We stop near a crooked tree and I put the blanket down so we can sit.

“I brought some chai from the kitchen, but it's probably cold now.” She says, taking a flask, two cups and a box from the bag. “I also brought biscuits.”

I cast  **_‘Some Like It Hot’_ ** on the thermos and Wellbelove creasses her brow.

“You didn't have to do that.”

“It  _ was _ cold.”

“ _ Tch _ ” She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, but takes the cup I offer.

Sometimes I think she doesn't like magic, but it would be stupid if she didn't. Magic is everything when you have it, even if its scarce, like hers. I can't imagine not having it, not loving it.

“So, how was the extra month of vacation?”

The question takes me by surprise, even though it shouldn't. Of course she would ask.

“It was fine. Heard I had a brilliant time in Ibiza.”

“Did you bring me anything?”

She's being cheeky, so I raise an eyebrow to make her stop.

“Fine.” She gives. “ _ My _ month, if you care, has been the most boring and slow paced time of my  _ life _ . Between Posibelf's lessons and my lack of friends I think I'm heading down a dark road of Netflix addiction and puzzles.”

What?

“Lack of friends?” I say, but she isn't listening. Or she's pretending not to.

“Sometimes I miss the summer, you know? Getting to do whatever you want with people you actually like.”

It sounds dreamy, and I don't think I like where this is going. And what the fuck did she meant by  _ lack of friends _ ? I perform a generic hum and let her make out what she wants of it. When she looks back there is a sparkle in her eyes that make my stomach coil.

I thought it wasn't like that.

“I think that, if I could, I'd go back in time. Do things a little different.” She wasn't looking at me before, but she is now. “Would you?”

“Go back?”  _ Why. _

“Change things.”

I can't answer that. I can't even think of that. All of the things I  _ would _ change… Its only painful.

“No.”

“Really. You've never made a mistake?” She's looking at me incredulously, and I remember we've known of the other since we're twelve. 

“I didn't say that.”

“I would.” She says, putting her cup down. “I'd go back to the beginning of the summer, and I would do it all over again. I would drive around and party as much, and I would watch more movies.” Her gaze is a little off, and I can see her feelings boiling. “And by the end of the summer, I would tell my parents I wasn't coming back and go have a stupid road trip with Minty until the money ran out.” 

Oh. That's not what I expected. Maybe we have more in common than I thought.

“I miss her, you know? I miss Minty.”

I know, but I'm also a dick.

“She was quite annoying.” I say. Agatha laughs and pushes my arm, making the last of my chai spill.

“Shut up! She only did that because you're a wintry bastard.”

Touché.

Usually I'd be biting back, but the relieve of Wellbelove not liking me is trumping all else. I need to know what she means by lack of friends, though. Does that include Simon?

“Why did you come back, Baz?”

I think about it for a moment and decide on the honest answer.

“I have a lot of history here, and I have to see it through.”

Wellbelove sighs and nods once.

“I guess.” It's getting chilly, and she hugs her knees. “Still, it would've been a hell of a road trip.”

**SIMON**

Basilton Pitch is such a prick and I can't wait for him to come back and say it to his face.

It would probably make The Room blast another awful song about panic or drugs or mixed emotions, but I don't care anymore. In fact, I  _ want _ it to do it. I want it to be so maddening it breaks Baz, so he'll help me with it, or else we'll be stuck on a musical prison forever.

I suddenly remember how annoyed he was at that sappy romantic song.

If this is what it takes to break him, I'll do it.

“Great snakes!” I scream to the ceiling, “I wish Baz never knows I love, uh, love songs!” this is a disaster. “Romantic, fluffy love songs! As sweet as they can get”

I'm trying my best, but even I can admit it's not very good. The Room is taking none of it, and heavy bases are still filling the air. I swear it's like it  _ knows _ .

I stop myself there. If it  _ knows _ , then maybe I have to think of something that  _ is _ true.

“There's this song I like,” I say, and The Room lowers its volume. Barely. I may be right about this. “It's a very cheesy song, and I'd  _ hate _ for Baz to know about it…”

A screech replaces the noise from before, and  _ To Wish Impossible Things _ starts playing. It's not what I meant. I'm not even sure I like this song. It's too depressing.

The screech sounds again and  _ Lovesong  _ plays louder.

This is a disaster. Baz actually likes The Cure. He won't be angry, he'll gloat. 

“Not this one!” I shout. My patience is gone and I don't feel like playing games anymore. “I hate you.”

The Room keeps playing  _ Lovesong _ as I hit my pillow to the pulp. Penny suggested punching soft things as a method to control my anger, but this isn't working. I feel like I'm punching a sheep. I stop and enter the bathroom to rinse my face. I'm going to be late for dinner, and they might run out of scones.

When I come out of the bathroom the song is ending, and I wait for it to start over–but it doesn't. Instead, only a drum starts playing, followed by a keyboard.

It's the song I wanted.

A grin fills my face and I lose any resentment. I'll have to rush through dinner now. Penny will complain, but I don't want to miss Baz' face when he hears this.

It'll be brilliant.

**BAZ**

My head is a mess as I walk back to Mummers. It should mean nothing to me. Even if the unthinkable has happened–even if what I've dreamt of is true–I still can't let it be anything more than a coincidence. It should mean nothing.

Simon is single, but there is no way the universe would allow me to take that window. He's straight, for starters. And my bringer of peril, in the best and worst of senses. But knowing that doesn't make my heart beat slower. 

I'm glad I didn't feed today.

I need to calm down before the room gets me and spills my guts in simphony. I just have to think of something else. I manage to derail my thoughts as I make it to the top, but when I stand to listen if Snow's inside, a tune catches my ear.

I open the door and Morten Harket’s voice hits me in the face like a brick.

_ “Take on me _

_ [Take on me] _

_ Take me on...” _

The song is halfway through, so there's no way it came from me, but getting caught in the room with yet another love song would still be a disaster, and I can't think of another explanation as to why this would be playing. 

I hear the doorknob rattle and Snow comes in, making me jump. He stands in front of the door and closes it, but doesn't move further.

My face must look like that of a deer in front of headlights, so I steady my expression and stand straight to highlight my stature. I look down at him and see he has an iron face. He looks terrifying, like he might kill a man, and that man is me.

“What do you want?” I spit out. His eyes are locked in my face and I'm really glad I didn't feed today. Otherwise he might have noticed blood running from my cheeks. He looks menacing in a way I hadn't seen in years, and the uneasiness I feel has caught me off guard. 

“Are you 

“Were you dating Agatha before you disappeared?”

_ What? _ I honestly don't know how to answer that.

“I don't know what you mean.”

“You better catch up because I'm not in the mood. I saw you when I left the dinner, and before, in the woods. You were talking…” There is a thick growl behind every word and I can feel his magic itching at my throat. “ _ How long? _ ”

“How long have I  _ talked _ to her?”

“How long have you been together?” He's getting angrier, and his magic is all over the place now. “How long have you run behind my back and lied to my face?”

He looks savage, like a dog who just got hit by a car, surrounded by streetlights and pain. I'm not sure he won't bite. I'm not sure what would happen if he did.

“Did you make her break up with me?”

“I didn't make her  _ do _ anything.”

**_“Stop lying!”_ ** He cries out, and it's fueled with magic even though it isn't a spell. I can feel the truth boiling up on me, I try to push it down.

“I'm not!” I spit before I think. Trying to keep my mouth shut is hurting like hell and I feel an awful tear falling. “I-”  _ I can't. _ “I'm–”

“No.  **_Stop_ ** **!”**

The pressure inside me lifts and I let out a deep breath. Simon realized what he did and took it back. The spell is gone, and I don't think he meant to do it. Hexing me. His eyes are blown wide and every trace of anger is gone. He still looks like a road dog, only a scared one. I wait for a minute to calm down, swallowing back all my nerves to make sure my voice won't crack when I speak, but Simon speaks first.

“I didn't meant to do that.” He sounds eagerly tired, and he's not looking at me. “I'm sorry, I really am.” There's a softness to him, and I don't need a spell to know its the truth.

“I'm gay.”

The room is deafeningly silent and I can't listen beyond my scattered breath, but he finally turns to look at me.

“What?” He looks like he's stepped on a bomb. In a way, we have. 

“You heard me. I'm gay.” I say it like a wolf bites. If he comes at me for that I will show every one of my teeth. I'm used to it by now, with Malcom and all, but I never thought it would happen with Snow. I'll still fight though, even it it kills me inside. “I can't like girls. Wellbelove and I are just friends.”

His brow is frowned and I can see somethings running through his brain, but he doesn't look mad, just confused. He's hesitating. For once he may think before he speaks.

“Then why did you… All this years, I thought you were hunting her.”

“Hunting?” I scoff. “She's not an animal, Snow. And I'm not a beast.” Not officially, anyways.

“Fuck, no, I meant–I thought you fancied her. I thought she fancied  _ you _ . I thought that's why she dumped me. To be with you.”

“Maybe she dumped you because you're a living disaster and she got tired of it.”

I expect him to bite back, to start a different banter, to argue–but he doesn't. Instead, he looks away.

“Maybe she did.”

There's an awkward silence and Snow's self-realization makes me want to take my words back. He  _ is _ a disaster, but it's not like I'm better. In fact, I think I'm worse by a long shot. But I can't say that. I would be weird if I did, and too personal to bear.

“The broken heart. You think you will die, but you just keep living, day after day after terrible day.” It's a Dickens quote, but I don't have words of my own at the moment.

“Are you taking the piss?” There's a small smile forming at his lips, and I thank magic for letting me do that. His magic is completely gone now, and I can hear the muffled sound of the room tuning back.

“Perhaps. You can always hex me and ask.”

“I said sorry.” He sounds sheepish, but his eyes stay on me. There's an easynes to him, like were people who bicker and apologize on a regular basis, instead of mortal enemies.

“Good night, Snow.”

I turn around before allowing any answer and grab my nightclothes. I lock the bathroom door and sit on the toilet. I'm tired. No, tired doesn't cover it. I'm dead four times over. 

It wasn't the coming out itself. As much as it bores me to explain my sexuality, telling Snow I'm gay was not a terrible experience. It's the fact that I told him I never have and never will like Agatha what haunts me. I could have handled that differently, make it so my years of stalking and mooning over his lips kissing someone weren't so obviously about  _ him _ kissing someone else. I just blew up my biggest cover of all: assumed heterosexuality.

The room is back to its usual volume now. I can't grasp why it would shut up during or fighting, or understand if it actually has a taste, but I will add it to my notes. Tomorrow.

_ Take On Me _ is not the worst song to listen while you shower, anyways.

**SIMON**

I'm pretending to be asleep when Baz leaves the bathroom, and I'm planning to do it until he is actually asleep. It takes him about an hour to turn off the night lamp and I'm almost passed out when the first snore comes out. (Sleep like an angel my arse.)

I get up and head to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. I close the door behind me and get inside the shower. I take a long breath because I'm about to make a fool of myself.

“Mh, hello? I uh, was wondering if I could ask for a song?”

The music around me quivers a bit, but the song stays. I think it was a yes, though.

“I, uhm, I wanted to ask for a Smiths song. I don't really know how its called.” This was a terrible plan. “It kind of goes like  _ dadara ra ra dadara dara dara rara… _ ”

I sound like a mad man. There is no way this will work, partly because the room is an arsehole, but mainly because I can't hold a fucking tune. I wish I knew the name of the song, and I feel like I'm wishing for a miracle of mercy. Wishes don't come true.

But this isn't a wish.

“ **_This is a request._ ** Can you play the song for me?”

The Room screeches softy and the suffering voice of that singer echoes through the walls. I hope it hasn't woken Baz up. I take a second before leaving the shower and mutter a thanks to the bluebird void.

I return to my bed and everything looks calm. Baz hasn't even moved.

He sleeps like a storybook princess, with his long hair spread around his face. It looks like a dark halo against his skin, and he has a hand up near his mouth, like he's telling a secret. He looks soft when he sleeps. Well, soft-er. He still has pointy cheekbones and a long fucking nose, both of which make him look like a blade, ready to slice. Ready to attack. But he isn't right now–attacking–and it's nice.

I hadn't noticed before, but his mouth is naturally shaped a little downwards on the sides. It looks like a little pout, which I guess fits him right since he does it all the time. Maybe that's why: he was born a permanent pouter and just decided to embrace it.

There's another snore and I'm shot out of my head. I should go to sleep, it's past twelve and my morning will be impossible if I miss breakfast. 

It takes me a while, though. Maybe because a lot of things happened today, and there's a couple of them I can't let go off. I fall asleep recounting every moment I thought something meant  _ something _ , and how it could change given what I know now. 

I dream of buses and flying.

**BAZ**

Snow is loud enough in the mornings to wake up an entire country. There is still some residual dream state in me, but he's making sure I can't go back to bed. I'm about to shout at him for it when I hear it. The song–my song–is playing in the room, and I don't understand why.

_ “Take me out tonight _

_ Because I want to see people and I want to see life _

_ Driving in your car…” _

“What is this?” I ask. My voice comes out sleepy, but it's too late to clear my throat. Snow turns, startled by my voice. He just shrugs like that is an answer and gives me a glance before looking away and grabbing his tie. He puts it in his pocket and I roll my eyes.

“How did you do it?” That stops him on his feet. He turns to look at me and shrugs again. (I swear half his sentences are pure movement.)

“I don't know, I just, asked for it.”

He just asked for it. He just asked for this song.

“Why?”

He's tugging at his curls. I can tell this is making him uncomfortable.

“Like I said, I'm sorry.” He asked for this to say sorry. The room is playing this _for_ _me_ , at his request. 

A million thoughts start running through my head. Does he know this is my song, or did he asked the room to play something I would like? Is this good? Was I supposed to know he did it?

It is the kind of thing a hero would do, I suppose. Be the bigger person.

Too bad I'm not a hero.

**SIMON**

“You didn't have to do…  _ this _ .” Baz says with a frown, gesturing with his hand like he's scaring a fly. “I heard you the first time. I don't care.” 

I don't know what I expected, maybe a little nod or less grumpiness, but this seems about right. I don't expect him to like me after what I did last night. How I acted… I don't want to stay and make it worse. I start moving towards the door when Baz clears his throat.

“Thank you.” His voice is hoarse and sleepy. He sounds gentle and it feels too close to being nice. I guess I started with the apology, but it's weird. We don't do nice. 

“Don't know why you like 'em. They're depressing as shit.”

I may have started it, but I don't know how to maintain it.

“Your whole existence is depressing.” 

I guess he doesn't either. 

“Sod off.” I say, and walk out.

I'm actually canty when I make it to breakfast, and Penny starts poking me about it. I tell her I had a good dream, which is true, and she goes on about wishes and the subconscious. I tune out pretty soon and focus on my food instead.

When Baz enters the dinner a small thorne pinches my chest. He ignores me, of course, until he sits down, then he turns to scoff at me with a raised eyebrow. I maintain my stare because I don't know what else to do, but when I try to bite my scone I hurt my own finger.

I hiss and drop my scone on the ground, then hurry to pick it up. When I turn back, Baz is already talking to his friends, but he glances back at me one more time before ignoring me for good. There was a smile at the end there, I think, and for some reason it makes me feel better than I had in awhile. 

**BAZ**

He played me The Smiths and I smiled.

  
  


* * *

**PENNY**

I wake up at three in the morning, frightened, feeling the world around me is turning to ashes. A cold world like the sweat on my back. 

Trixie is sleeping right next to me, and I can hear her bell earrings jingle with her breath. It's a travesty that her ears move when she dreams, but in this moment the sound is the only thing keeping me grounded.

I had another nightmare, about the Humdrum this time. Those are the worst. I can deal with terrible trolls and anthropomorphic arachnids, but the sight of small Simon combined with boney wings and melting flesh is a straight path to a panic dream.

I cast a  **_‘Glass Half Full’_ ** on my nightstand cup and drink, then I fill it again. It's been like this a few times, but it's never not pleasant. I still haven't told Simon his image is the reason I'm getting bags under my eyes. I don't want him to feel worse about what happened.It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault.

I change my shirt and take off my sweatpants. The room feels too hot now, even though I'm sweating cold. I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I calm myself properly. It would be too weird to call Micah so early, I would only worry him and mess up his day, and I'd be risking getting caught with my phone, which would give Trixie a tool for blackmail.

I put on a decent pair of jeans, grab a jacket for later and leave to the rampants.

It's always peaceful here, if you know where to look. For example, right now I'm looking at the sky, watching the stars. If I looked at the forest I'd see strange movements on the trees, and if I turned to the moat the marewolfs would give me the creeps. They suck. So I look at the stars. I can still see Aquila, even though its most present at the end of the summer and we're already in October. The seventh, to be exact. I know because October the third was on saturday and I remembered that stupid quote from the movie Agatha made us watch twice in a week.

Cygnus, Cassiopeia and Aquarius are here too, right on time. And Marianita. That one's mine, I made it up with Micah during summer and named it after his puppy (a lovely stray he picked up Merlin know where). It has the shape of a corndog. There's also Luces, Medusa, and Mirage (we called it that because it doesn't actually have a shape.) (We just pretended it did.)

We didn't have time to name more, we had other things to do, but I'm sure we'll make up more when he comes visit, or when I go to America for good. I'm still not sure about that. It would be a great opportunity for me in the magikal field since half the jobs here are not my type, and the others are too close to my family. I want something new, of my own. And I want Micah.

It would be a tool for him to come here. He's already got problems with the government being racist and all–I don't want to put another strain in his international status by asking him to live here. I don't think he would like it anyways. He would miss his family and the sun, and I would miss taking a chance at something potentially incredible. 

I think about this a lot when I get frightened. The future–the notion that there is one–is a solid goal I can work for, and it helps me remember all we do is worth it. All the fear, tears and blood, the pain, everything is helping the world somehow, and I get to be a part of that. I get to help Simon too.

Simon.

He'll be a wreck when I leave for America. Maybe I can convince him to go with me, now that he's no longer with Agatha and their childish plans of living in a cottage are gone. It was sweet, for a while, but the stakes got higher and reality grew harsher, and they just didn't.

I'm glad they're apart: now they can find happiness in other things, strive for a brighter future, grow a little more. But I'm not glad they aren't speaking.

I get up and cover myself with the jacket. I'm cold now, which means my mind is ok. I'm ok. I'm leaving because I've entered a dreamy-state, and I'm gonna ride this wave 'till morning. I have a lot to do if I want to finish the year as head of the class. Even if Basilton was gone for a month, my advantage will be obliterated the second an adventure ensues.

I get to my room to find Trixie sleeping on her back, snoring like a madwoman. It's especially awkward since her pixie blood makes her sound like an old-timey cartoon. I bet Keris loves it. They always gush about little things like that. I'd empathise if they weren't so annoying the rest of the time.

I fall asleep dreaming of cartoon birds and constellations full of magic.

  
  
  


**AGATHA**

There's a massage from Minty on my computer when I open it, and it's by far the most pleasant thing that's happened all week.

(3:03)  _ how r u? _

It's from last night. She must have gone to a party, maybe with the Brady twins. (I don't really like them, but they have a car and there are no fun places near our houses.)

I write back, but I don't expect her to respond right now: it's past six on a wednesday, which means she's either punished for going out on a school night, or she's avoiding homework by napping.

She'll see it when she can, and she'll know I'm still around, so I sent it.

(18:32)  **Hey :))**

(18:39)  _ you wo't believe what happened yesterday _

(18:39)  _ won _ 't*

(18:40)  **You went out with the bradys**

(18:40)  _ i went out with the Brady kids _

(18:41)  _ oi, shhh _

(18:41) _ i'm talking _

(18:41)  _ we went out boling and they were as LOUD AnD SMELLY as always _

(18:42)  **Cheesy bois**

(18:42)  **Ugh**

(18:42) _ but _

(18:50)  **But?**

(18:52)  _ wait mum near _

If she's texting that means she wasn't caught sneaking out, but her mum is a trap in itself. This will take a while.

I have to finish an essay about Weetabix Cereals and their healing abilities in the 1950's, so I drop my bag and head on to the common showers. The hot water is like a blessing from the heavens. I'm really sore from lacrosse and my leg aches where I took a hit from Ramona. At least I got to beat her team during practice. 

When I come back, Minty hasn't written back, so I resign myself to do the Weetabix stuff. My phone dings and I thank Merlin for it.

(19:15)  _ ok so we were at the parking lot whn this bloke comes out of nowhere and offers us beer _

(20:20)  _ hey, u there? _

(20:23)  _ did the nuns locked u up in a dungeon? _

(20:23)  _ can i visit? _

(20:30)  _ will you send memes by mail? _

(20:40)  **Srry, I was in the shower**

(20:41)  **Please tell me you didn't take the beer**

(20:45)  _ we took the beer _

(20:45)  _ it was like, twice the price so we knew it wasnt druged or smt _

(20:45)  **I can't believe u**

(20:46)  _ no wait _

(20:46)  _ it gets better _

(20:46)  _ after we pay, this deer comes out of nowhere _

(20:46) _ like, actual bambi _

(20:47)  _ and this guy makes aye contact with it _

(20:47)  _ eye** _

(20:47)  _ and follows it into the woods _

(20:48)  _ it was like a cult call or smthn _

(20:49)  **Are u sure u werent drugged?**

(20:49)  _ promis!!! _

(20:50)  _ we left after _

(20:51) _ I mean the ale was fine but the lad was shady af and also disnt have theeth _

(20:51) **OMG**

(20:51)  **Did he asked for yours?**

(20:52)  _ well he had some _

(20:52)  _ but not all _

(20:58)  **He should have**

(20:58) _ id give a molar for shity beer if u ask nicely _

(20:59)  _ You should have been here _

(21:03)  _ i mean, i missed u _

(21:04)  _ cheese lads aren't half as fun _

(21:05)  **Missing your friend when a rando steals your money to marry a deer**

(21:05)  **A classic**

(21:07)  _ it was the teeth gaps. they really screamed Agatha to me _

Minty always makes me laugh. Even with stupid things like that.

(21:19)  **I really wish I was there.**

It takes me a minute to realize what I've written, and then I make it official: my life is the most boring thing I have.

I would rather spend my night watching a pisshead chase Bambi than here, alone in my room, trying to understand Weetabix trough magic. I even miss Penelope's stupid study group, and her dull idea of a sleepover. (She would turn off the lights and tell horror stories I never believed.) (She made a mean impression of a goblin though.)

I have to do something different. Something any Normal person my age would. I need to do it or else I  _ will _ go insane.

(21:53)  _ hey, theres a party near your creepy school on saturday _

(21:53)  _ wanna come? _

(21:56)  _ u can bring other ppl with u _

(21:57)  _ but theyll have to dance or else i summon satan _

(22:03)  _ let me know if ur coming _

(22:05)  _ xx  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeyy, another friday!!  
> This time (on time) I brought you the playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/65f87rw5uNMehV7muaf4zs?si=qbg6-6zOSKGv23w3gh_UNg 
> 
> You can listen to it on spotify and go along for the ride :)  
> Till next week!


	5. CHAPTER FIVE: TEMPTATION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello. in this chapter there will be mild drug use (weed and alcohol) and bad dancing. if you wish to avoid any please feel free to do so :)

**BAZ**

I'm on my way to the dinner when Agatha stops me cold. She actually reached out and held my arm. I scoffed at her visibly but she just rolled her eyes. I can see Dev and Niall walking ahead of me, poking each other until one of them notices I'm left behind, and they both stop and turn. I will explain later.

“Baz, what are you doing this weekend?”

It's only thursday and I could make up some reunion or interesting meating, but I won't. I don't want to miss more Watford.

“I'm staying here. I have a month of papers to catch up on.”

“So, nothing.”

“I wouldn't call schoolwork nothing.”

“Suit yourself. I have a party and I want you to come.”

I can't help but snort. Who the fuck would take  _ me _ to a party?

“Is this one of your illicit rendezvous in The Weeping Tower?”

“No, it's actually an out of school thing.” She winks  _ and _ wiggles her eyebrows. A Normal party then. Over my deader body.

“No, thank you.”

“Why not?”

“Why at all?”

“Because it can be fun!” She's trying to sell it with enthusiasm and a smile. She should know better. 

“I can't imagine how.”

She crumples her face like a pouting baby and I raise an eyebrow. There's no way she can be this stubborn. I turn to look a Dev and Niall, and remember how they asked me to keep at my room for the weekend. I make a note to dig into that later.

“Fine.” I give. A devilish smile fills her face and I'm already regretting my choice.

“You also owe me a lunch.”

“No, I don't.”

She squints her eyes at me, so I offer a fake grin and she leaves. I stride over to Dev and Niall who have been gushing through the hole thing.

“So, you have a date or what?” Dev asks. 

“As if.”

“You were talking for awhile.” Niall is quiet beside him. His eyes have dyed down a bit so I can't tell what he's feeling, but he looks annoyed.

“She wanted my elocution homework.”

“That sounds like bullshite to me.” Dev can be crass most of the time. “Had you talked before?”

I shrug and walk past them to the dinner. I sometimes forget they still think I'm straight. Well, Dev does. I think Niall has been more perceptive. We've never talked about it, but I already came out once this week, I'm not doing it again anytime soon.

When I get to the breakfast table I see Snow is already inside, eating what appears to be half the menu. I pass in front of him and he stops his nasty chewing to look at me before I sit down. Things have been good between us these days. I should fight with him again, just to clear things up. I'll shout at him for something tonight. Leaving the window open is always a good choice, or I could complain about the mess he made the other day and never picked up. (There's a pile of stuff on a corner and I'm sick of looking at it.)

Since the Smiths thing I've been cutting back my snark, partly because I don't want the room to be a mindfield again, but also because a part of me hopes this can last a little longer. I know it's stupid to let myself go down that road, that if I can get just a glimpse of a life where we aren't enemies–where we are closer to friends–getting back to reality will be a near impossible experience. So the fight is a must. Tonight I'll bring my A-game.

I'll be the bastard I need to be, because Merlin knows what could happen if I'm not.

**SIMON**

Tonight was rubbish. Baz came back from wherever he was all day and first thing he did was snap at me for leaving stuff on the floor (not even on his side), then he complained about the open window, even though it hadn't been a problem this week. 

He finished monologuing after a good fifteen minutes, and then asked me if I'd lost my tongue with my brains, as if I could have interrupted his fucking rant unscratched.

I could have  _ tried _ , but he caught me off guard. Things had been so easy this week–we weren't fighting or insulting each other like before, and I liked it. But I guess he didn't.

I don't fucking understand him. It was far better to be nice.

Now The Room is playing Aphex Twin at top volume and I think I'll go insane.

I look for my earplugs before I get into bed and try to focus on the positive, but I don't find it.

I ignore Baz's nightlight and fall asleep imagining a valley I can run free in.

  
  


I wake up smelling smoke and drained in sweat. Baz is sitting on his bed, watching me, the light is on and I can see him muttering something, saying something, but I can't hear.  _ Why can't I hear? _ He moves his hands from his ears twice, like a mime. The earplugs, I still have them on. I take them off and the sound of music reaches me, but it's muffled under my breath. I'm shaking, and my body feels hot even though my back is cold.

Baz is saying something, but I still can't understand. There is static everywhere, making it all blurry. Suddenly I see movement and my reaction is to back up. Baz has gotten out of bed and is standing next to me. He looks weary, like the rabbit I saw on my way this year.  _ Frightened _ . That takes me out a bit, and I can finally hear what he's saying.

“... breath, Simon.  _ Breath _ .” He moves one hand towards me, like an invitation, and I let him. “You're in our room– _ look at me _ –you're at Watford, above Mummers House, in a tower, in our room.”

I'm starting to breath evenly, but my vision's still not great. The blurriness is gone, but I can only focus on what's right in front of me. I see Baz, inches away from me, and I'm swallowed by grey and black. His eyes, coloured like an autumn storm, chilling, menacing. No, not menacing. Vast. I think vast is a right word to describe his eyes. I'm focusing on vastness and trying to breath.

“... doing brilliant. Just a couple of deep ones now.” I take one breath to fill my chest, then another. “That's right. Now again.”

I do it. I follow everything he says, even if I'm not listening completely. After a while my heartbeat evens and the song is clear to me. It's not the one I fell asleep with, it's softer.

I'm calm now. I think. I don't know what happened.

“You had a nightmare.” Baz says. He's still close to me, and I'm still running through his eyes. “You almost burned the bed.” He adds, looking down at my hands. There are black stains on the sheets and smears of ashes on my fingers.

Fire. I could have burned the bed, he's flammable. Fuck–I could have burned him. I could have killed him. My chest feels tight again. I'm hyperventilating. 

“Stop. Simon,” Baz is on my bed now, sitting on the edge near my knees. “Stop thinking, it's alright. No one's hurt.” He says it like a promise, and I try to breath again.

I see a cool hand reaching out to touch me, I feel his cold fingers clash slowly with the back of my hands, linger there. I like that: the feel of his skin, cool against mine. I turn my hands and take his. For a second he stiffens and I wait for the pull back, but there is none. I can't believe he's letting me touch him, hold on to him. He doesn't meet my eyes. My chest feels tightened, but it's a different kind. I don't feel like air is missing, in fact I think I'm full of it. Like a balloon, floating with a wish towards the starry night. One more breath and I'll burst. Another and I–

“You're fine now.” Baz cuts, dropping my hands and leaving my bed in one swift move. I don't know what happened, but he isn't looking back. If he did he'd see my shock. I try to refuse, but my mouth opens and there's nothing to say. What could I say?

“Don't turn off the light.” His voice is muffled by the sheets. The window is open and he's covered head to toe. Everything felt hot when I woke up, but the wind has taken that. He must be freezing. I stand up, close it, and crawl back in bed. It takes me a minute to speak.

“Baz,”

“Mh?”

“Night.”

“... Good night.”

* * *

**LUCY**

If I could hold him, just once. Let him know I'm here as much as I can. For him. Looking for him. 

My son, my love.

_ My rosebud boy. _

* * *

**PENNY**

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I think Simon's gone completely mental. He's telling me about a funny thing Baz did this morning and I don't understand anything.

“I thought you almost killed each other literally last night.”

“Well, yeah. But then we kind of… didn't.” He's tugging at his hair. He's probably hiding something. Maybe Baz spelled him. 

“Are you charmed?”

“Wh–what do you mean?” He's blushing now, there _must_ _be_ an incantation involved.

“Did he cast a spell on you? Are you trapped in your own head?”

I look for the symptoms of  **_‘Sympathy For The Devil’_ ** , but I can't remember them all. (At least he doesn't look shaggier than usual, which is always a sign.)

“Pen, stop. He didn't do anything.” He look serious. “Anything bad, that is.”

“He did something  _ good _ ?”

Simon looks sheepish and shrugs. I'm supposed to let go now, but I won't. I lower my glasses to look at him directly and fix him a pinning stare. There's a reluctant growl, but he knows better and gives.

“He was nice.”

Preposterous. As if Basilton Pitch could one day be nice to Simon. Maybe _he's_ the one being spelled. It wouldn't be the worst thing if someone charmed him nice, but I don't know any spell that could actually _make_ someone be nicer. Maybe the Smith's song could work, but I don't think so.

Simon is speaking about his room again and I'm about to make a new rule about it, when he says something interesting.

“Let's go to a party.”

“A party?” We haven't done that since Agatha got drunk and Simon messed up the hungover spell. She looked like a furry for a week. He seems excited this time.

“Yeah. We haven't done anything fun in so long, and Baz said he'd arrange the hole thing.”

Oh boy.

“What does  _ he _ have to do with going to a party?”

“Well, he invited me and said yes when I asked if you could go, too.”

“Simon, what the fuck.”

“Come on Penny. I need some fun.  _ We _ need some fun.”

“And a potential trap is fun to ya!?”

He looks taken aback and starts tugging at his hair again. When he speaks, he mumbles. “I don't think it's a trap.”

He can't be this naive.

“Simon…”

“Look, Pen, I just need some air. Some time to–I guess I need to enjoy a little. Before I can't.” I think about The Mage wanting to take Simon away and that he might try again. “Besides, we can take care of eachother, right Pen?”

I can't believe a party with Baz could be described as fun, but there's expectancy in his eyes and it warms my heart a little. I guess he knows how to make me give, too.

“Well, this  _ is _ our last year,” Simon is starting to smile. “But you have to promise it won't be some posh meeting with sour wine and provolone.” He hesitates, but makes the promise. We walk a little in silence and I can feel him beaming. I don't think anyone should be that excited to see a bunch of teenager get drunk and sticky, but it's Simon.

“So, what is it to arrange?” I say, cutting of the silence.

“Mh?”

“You said Baz would ‘arrange the hole thing’. What's the hole thing?”

“Oh, I, ern, I didn't ask. He mentioned something about a car though, and telling the host 'bout us.”

“Wait, it's not in Watford? And he has to ask for permission??” 

Great snakes, Simon. Where are you dragging me?

“Uh, yeah. But I'm sure he'll get it.”

  
  


**AGATHA**

“No. Absolutely no. Are you mad?” Who would have guessed the top of the class was an idiot. “There is no way they can come. And why in hell would you want them to?”

Baz is looking at me with a raised brow. I thought hated Simon and Penny more than anyone. And surely he  _ knows _ how mad I am. I've told him. 

“I have my reasons.” 

“Tell me.”

“No.”

_ Prick. _

“Then leave. I'm not saying yes because you want me to.” I say it firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. We stare for a moment without moving, until I win. 

“Fine.” He's acting like Marlene Dietrich in  _ Witness for the Prosecution, _ right before the meltdown scene. “The truth is Snow and I haven't been fighting lately. Not as much, anyways. And I think it would help my grades if we make a truce for the rest of the year. A party would be great for that.”

That sound so fake, but whatever. I don't know why I bother. If he wants to bring someone to party why not my fucking ex-boyfriend. 

“And Penelope?”

“He asked.” He says, like it's obvious, then adds, “And I think you miss her.”

“Shut up.” I pout. I do miss her, but it's pesty of him to bring it up like that. “You know, they're terrible at parties. Penelope becomes a talker and Simon, well, he's  _ Simon.” _

“I do. Its annoying.”

“You can be so weird.” I say, giving up a smile. He looks a bit offended at that, but I don't care. He owes me big time. I tell him so and leave for practice. I'll burn it out on the field, and if I don't I can always call Minty.

I can't wait to rant about all of this.

  
  


**SIMON**

Baz told me to meet him at the parking lot around eight. He also told me not to wear my uniform, but I don't know how to dress for parties or outside school activities so I'm half an hour late. I'm looking around, wondering if they've left without me when Penny's voice calls me. She's wearing a long indian skirt and a white blouse with a frill. She looks bohemian. I only managed to grabbed an oversized t-shirt and some dungarees I got on a second-hand store. They are the best I've got.

Pen is leaning over the hood of a blue car and my jaw drops. It's a fucking Jaguar. _Of_ _course_ that's Baz's car, I wouldn't have hoped less. The headlights flicker twice and blind me.

I stumble towards where Penny was and she grabs my arm. “You're late.” She says, opening the door aggressively, “Premal could have seen me.” She shoves me inside and slides heavily next to me, slamming the door. 

Baz is sitting on the driver seat. I can't see much, but he's wearing a white shirt with sprinkles of colour and a fitting jacket over it. He combed his hair backwards and his widow's peak is showing. He looks fit as hell, and I'm suddenly aware of how bad I look. The car smells like him too, cedar and bergamot, and there's a faint whiff of smoke around, but I don't think it's me. Next to him Agatha is picking music on her phone.

“What are you doing here?” I blurt before I can think. She turns to look at me with gunshot eyes. If stares could kill, I'd be dead.

“Who do you think found the party?” Baz snarks, turning on the engine and giving Agatha the aux cord. I feel like an idiot. I turn to look at Penny and she's giving me a look reserved for when I've royally fucked up. Buggar.

A cheerful song I don't know starts playing on the speakers and it feels out of place. This is massively awkward. I didn't know Agatha was going to be here, I was too excited about going out that I ignored everything else, and now my choice has bit my arse.

“So, where are we going?” Penny talks like a diplomat when she's uncomfortable. It's weird. This is all weird.

“To the trap we made especially for you.” Baz says, “We'll be there in no time.” The silence is heavy and Penny reaches for her wand. Agatha takes a glance through the mirror and nudges Baz on the shoulder. They act so casual, and a blade of jealousy hacks me in the gut.

“Kidding.” He says, looking at me through the mirror, “Just kidding.” I think he tried to make a joke (and failed). Maybe this won't be terrible after all. Penny lets go her wand and grabs my hand instead.

We stay silent the rest of the way until the GPS tells us we're five minutes away, then Agatha tells Baz to stop the car and turns around on her seat to face us.

“There are two conditions for you to be here. One: you have to leave your wands in the car.” Penny snorts loudly, but Agatha ignores her. “Two: we're going to  **Ix-nay** you.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Pen's diplomatic voice is gone. “Only Coven members use that, and only if its  _ serious. _ ”

“This  _ is _ serious. I don't want you going around drinking and spelling.” Agatha is looking fiercely at Penny and I catch Baz's eyes on the mirror again. They look like angry clouds. “If you don't like it, you can stay in the car.”

After what feels like forever, Penny gives. “Fine.” Her face is flushed and I can hear her feet tapping the front seat. “But I'll do the  **Ix** ing.”

“Whatever.” Agatha turns to me, extending her hand. “Your wand.”

“I, er, I didn't bring it.”

“Typical,” Baz taunts from his seat. “You're such a disaster.”

“Are you ready?” Penny asks, and I nod.  **_“Ix-nay on the atford-Way!”_ **

I feel her magic though me and I shiver. Penny turns her wand on herself and repeats the spell, then gives it to Agatha. Now we can't discuss magikal stuff with any Normal, even if we're drunk.

“Lets go.” She tells Baz, and he moves the car back on the road.

“Oi, aren't you doing it too?” Penny snarks. She looks livid.

“I've been  **Ix** ed since I was nine.” Agatha says dismissively. “I know how to drink.” Baz swanks, giving her his wand.

“Wanker.” I say. I'm looking at the mirror and I see a devilish smile forming on his lips.

I turn away.

We get out of the car and my mouth falls for the second time today. Baz is wearing snug dark jeans that show his ankles and some fancy black shoes. He looks like a fucking model ready for a photoshoot.  _ Typical _ . 

I must stare for too long because he catches my eyes and raises an eyebrow.

“ _ What? _ ”

“You're wearing jeans…”

“I am. And you're parading in plummers couture.”

“You said not to come in uniform, and I didn't really have anything else.” He's such an arsehole. “They don't have any holes.” 

He stares for a moment like. If I didn't know better I'd say he's plotting something, but then his eyes go a little soft.

“Well fix that next time.” he says, and adds “If you dont cock up and there  _ is _ a next time.”

I wasn't expecting that. There might be a next time? And he'd do exactly  _ what? _ Fix my wardrobe??

“Come on,” Agatha interrupts walking between us, then stops. She turns around and faces the three of us this time. “And one more thing: don't embarrass me. For tonight try and just, be  _ Normal. _ Have fun, ‘key?”

I nod eagerly, but she's already moving to catch a girl in her arms. Baz moves past me to greet her too, and I feel a shiver where his hand brushes against my arm.

I need a drink. 

  
  
  
  


**BAZ**

I would have never expected Wellbelove to be so punk, but I think she might take the crown on this. There is a long line of people waiting to play beer pong and her team is kicking their ass.  _ Minty _ (who still refuses to tell me her last name) is with her, and I don't think they've drank more than a cup each. Its impressive. She's sending everyone out before they can touch her. 

I'm glad we  **Ix-nay** ed them in the car.

Bunce is on the far corner of the house. She was with Snow for a while, but he began talking to people who eventually got him on the dancefloor, so now she's settled down with some ‘party philosophers’ _ , _ surrounded by smoke and chatter. Last I checked they were discussing Newton's laws and how to break them and she was landing a compelling argument about astrophysics and the power of desire, so I left her be. 

There are fairy lights where I'm standing near the living room. All of the furniture was taken out to make room for dancing, so I'm resting on my back away from the open windows, wishing to be swallowed by the earth.

I'm trying to remember why I agreed to come, and why in the hell I brought Simon to a place filled with rat-arsed horny teenagers that would obviously see him fit. He's already danced with two girls, and I'm fairly sure one of them tried to kissed him, but I left to the kitchen to find another drink before it happened. I planed kissing the first bloke I found mildly pleasant, just to get back at him, but Wellbelove has no gay friends I would like to snog. 

Even if she did they wouldn't stand a chance with Simon here.

I've been thinking of ways to approach him, but he's terribly good at making friends, and I just so happen to hate strangers. Specially drunks. I believe Simon is very drunk, but he gets a pass for looking fit. (The dungarees are a disgrace, but he makes them work.)

When a girl walks up to me I repress the urge to hiss.

“You look like you smoke. Do you have a lighter?”

“No,” I use my wand, but it's in the glove compartment of the car. Smart Wellbelove. I really want to smoke though. “But I know who does.”

I take us to Bunce and she lends me the comunal light. The girl pulls out a cigarette, lights it and gives it to me before taking one for herself. It's bold and a bit gross, but I take a drag. When we return the lighter Bunce is staring at us, and shoots me a glance like I'm an idiot. She's good at that, I think.

The girl (Sahra, I believe) keeps trying to talk to me as I move back to my gloomy corner with perfect view of the dance floor. I'm thinking of ways to make her leave when a tall lad bumps me on the shoulder nearly spilling my drink. He's puffing his chest like a goddamn peacock and asks Sahra to dance. She smiles at me one more time before waving goodbye and going with the brute. 

At least I got a smoke.

I stand in my corner, siping on my cup and watching people dancing when a song by New Order starts playing. I know this song. I like this song. 

Simon is moving with it like a maniac, howling mildly with the singer, and the idea of moving together isn't as terrifying as it was half an hour ago.

Maybe I'm drunk, too.

_ “A heaven, a gateway, a hope _

_ Just like a feeling Inside, it's no joke” _

Suddenly I feel enough confidence and arrogance to approach the dancefloor. There are several people dancing, but everyone's at least two meters away from Snow right now. (I'm guessing for protection.) (His arms move like a boxer's and his feet are taking him from side to side, like a cow in distress.) It should be illegal to dance like that, if you can even call it dancing.

_ “Tonight, I think I'll walk alone _

_ I'll find my soul as I go home.” _

My body will be threatened just by being near him, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.

I make my way through the crowd, passing Sahra and the Brute to meet him. When he finally notices me, his eyes go wide and he stops moving. He's looking at the smoke in my hand like it's a grenade.

“Baz, you're flammable…”

“We all are, if you try hard enough.”

He looks at me with weariness and I take a last drag before putting it out under my shoe. He smiles at me and I check once to make sure I didn't catch on fire.

“You know, most normals think I smoke.” He's moving again, but not as haphazardly as before. Only his shoulders are bopping with the sound, but it's making his curls bounce and the fairy lights make it shine. No wonder the girl tried to kiss him, he is a spectacle up close.

“Don't you?” He tilts his head, not understanding what I mean, and I'm right there with him. “I mean, have you ever tried?” 

“No. But there's lots of things I haven't tried.” He sounds sheepish, but there's a smile curling on his lips and his eyes are shamelessly locked into mine. A flash of viciously tender thoughts fill me and I can feel heat rising up my cheeks. 

Maybe we could try something new.

_ “Each way I turn I know I'll always try _

_ To break this circle that's been placed around me” _

He's amazingly clumsy and closing the space between us even a little is an act of bravery, but I have a lot tonight. I take one step forward so we're close enough to speak without shouting. Snow is still staring at me, his moves have reduced to an occasional bop of the shoulders, like he means to be still but his body can't help it. 

“Why don't you dance?” He asks, catching me by surprise.

“You  _ want _ me to dance?”

“I bet you're great.” He says, looking away.

“How do you know?” 

The git just shrugs with a smile and turns back to me. He looks so stupidly bright and glorious that I think I might kiss him before he speaks again. A sneak of his cross catches my eye when I look down at his lips, but I decide I don't care. I'll deal with the pain tomorrow. Tonight I'll make it worth it.

_ “Oo, you've got green eyes, oh, you've got blue eyes, you've got grey eyes _

_ And I've never seen anyone quite like you before _

_ No, I've never met anyone quite like you before” _

I move slowly, because he wants me to. He asked me to dance so I'm trying, even with a dying song. The music is leaving but the fairy lights are bright, engulfing everything, and it looks like we're surrounded by fire. It's funny, I think, because that's what dancing with Simon feels like. A fire.

If I kiss him, would it burn?  _ Would I? _

He is so close and he's looking at me. He's saying something, but I can't understand.

And then there's vomit on my shoes.

**AGATHA**

“Bring me two glasses of water and–do you have carbonated water?” The girl I'm talking to looks like she's failing a math test. “Sparkling water. The one with bubbles.”

“Here!” Minty says, giving me a bottle of Schweppes. She's twice as drunk as this girl, and twice as bright. “I also brought you a scrunchie, in case you need to, you know,” She makes a fake gag and points at Simon, who is not looking at us. He puked on the livingroom floor and I'm sure he wants to be swallowed by the earth.

“Crowley, no. Baz, you do that.”

“What?”

“If Simon gets sick again, help him do it.” I can manage a lot, but there is no way I'm helping Simon vomit. (Been there, done that.) Baz invited him, it's his deal now. Minty looks at me proudly and I smile. 

Baz takes my arm and moves us away from her. “I can take us to the car and fix this. I'll be quick.” He's is talking about magic and his breath smells strongly of tequila and soda.

“What he needs is water and someone to watch over him, not a spell. Also, you're pissed.” I say. It's like he's never done this before. “Think of it as bonding, I'll meet you in the car. Now, give me the keys.” 

He looks angry, but he agrees with a sigh. We go back to Minty and Baz stands next to her. In this light he really looks like a vampire, and it's a bit off putting to remember he  _ is _ one. It's surreal to watch Minty give him the pastel scrunchie, like watching two realities collide. I'm just not sure which one is real.

I leave the bottle of Schweppes next to Simon and tell him to drink it. He thanks me and starts gulping it. He looks better, but we should go soon. Minty takes my arm and drags me away with her. We ran into Sahra and Gabriel snogging in the hallway and wait to turn the corner to laugh. We always knew it was a matter of time.

We dry our tears and I ask around for Penny until someone points me to a far corner, near the garden. Before I can go Minty holds me. Her hand brushes my shoulder and lands on my wrist.

“How many times have you done this?” She asks, playing with my pinky.

“What?”

“You know, rescue everyone.”

The idea of me rescuing someone is so foreign I have to laugh. “I don't rescue anyone. I'm not a knight.”

“Of course you aren't. Knights are pretentious bastards.” She scoffs, “But you  _ do _ , you're always looking after us.” She has a point about the knights, but still, I don't think taking care of people counts as rescuing.

“How are  _ you? _ ”

“I'm fine.” I insist. Her eyes are fixed on me and I can see her cheeks are flushed from drinking. “Really, I'm fine. But I have to get Penelope and drive us back to school.”

“Are you sure? Didn't you have, like, seven strawberry mojitos in the last hour?” Her words slur a little, and she sounds adorable.

“They weren't seven!” I laugh, “And they were virgin.” She scoffs at me and I step back to stand on one feet and touch my nose. “I promise, I'm not pissed.”

“Too bad, I wanted you to have fun!”

“I did! It's always so nice to see you.” She makes an expression I can't figure and I feel hidden and seen, all at the same time. My heart beats a little faster. I'm about to say something when Minty jumps at me and hugs me tight– too tight–but I hug her back.

“I'll miss you.” she sighs in my ear, “Next year will be good riddance to religious school, hello sunny skies!”

“Where will we find that in England?”

“Who said anything about England?” She's done hugging me, but her hands are holding mine. I don't care what else happens tonight, or that Simon got sick, hearing that made this party amazing.

When I find Penny she's laughing so hard I can barely recognize her. She's been talking to some girl named Delilah (great snakes) and the air smells like weed. Oh dear, I think she's blazed. I'm in  _ The Twilight Zone. _

“Pen?” I ask gently and she turns to me with a smile, “We have to go. Now.”

“I was just telling Delilah about the time we snuck out of the castle and didn't make it back before the doors closed.” I remember that. There were snow demons throwing snowballs at us. “It was freezing so hard my teeth were like maracas!”

A girl named Camila sneaks up behind me and I jump with her voice. “I didn't know your school was a hole castle! How come you've never shared?”

“It's not,” I say, cutting her off. “Come on, Pen. We really gotta go. Simon got sick.”

Her expression changes immediately. “Is he ok?”

“Yeah, but we should go.”

“Sure,” she stands up and I hold her by the elbow so she doesn't trip with Delilah's legs. “If he  _ is _ fine, can we get some chips on the way? I'm starving.”

“Sure.” I say, walking us towards the street. Simon is leaning on the Jaguar and it looks like Baz gave him his jacket. Strange. I unlock the doors remotely and make them jump. Penny stops walking and turns to me, eyes pink and wide. 

“I'm glad you let us come.” She says, “I really do miss you.” There is no sting or outside need behind her words, and I realize I don't hold anger anymore.

“I've missed you too.”

By the time we make it to Watford the bridge hasn't come down, so we wait in the car until we can go back in. Eventually Penny got tired of her chips and asked me to finish them for her. I didn't want to, so Simon did. Then he fell asleep in Baz's lap.

It's so strange to see this, but I don't feel anger or sadness. Aside from my family and Minty, these are the people I think I love the most, in whatever way I can. It's different on everyone, I think, the kind of love I have for them–but maybe it's meant to be like that. Maybe you're supposed to find your own way of loving and doing it to your best extent.

Penny is dozing off when the bridge finally downs, and I have to poke her until she laughs to wake her up. Baz and Si are sound asleep on the back seat, but I wake Baz first because his hand is on Simon's hair and I'm not sure he meant to do that.

We make our way to our rooms and I take Penny to mine. We agree on meeting at lunch so I can give them a proper hungover clamato. (I won't have another **_“Hair of the Dog”_** going wrong.)

I fall asleep listening to Penny's laugh and dream of a sunbaked beach, friends and beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo, i had a lot of fun writing this chapter. before the next one it was my favourite to write (and i still love it).  
> leave a kudo if you've also fucked up by vomiting on your crush  
> till next week :)


	6. CHAPTER 6: PROMISE

**SIMON**

I wake up to the sound of The Velvet Underground and the silence of everything else. 

Baz is not in our room, even though its early on a sunday. He never wakes up early on sundays, but I don't think he even touched his bed last night. He's been really cold lately, which is saying much given the past seven years of our lives. I used to think he was angry because I got sick on him at Agatha's party, but I already apologised and even offered to buy him new shoes. He laughed viciously and told me I couldn't afford them. (He's probably right, but I got angry when he said it.)

He could at least talk to me. We were getting along before my puking disaster, and he even took care of me _ after _ . I don't remember much of the night, but I remember the car ride: he combed my hair while I rested my head on his lap, thinking of ways not to vomit again. I fell asleep with the feel of cold fingers running through my hair, but then in the morning he looked at me revolted and the icing began.

I don't get it.

He's acting like he used to before my nightmares: cold and vicious, ready to snap at any moment and eat my head with a side of garlic bread, and I feel like shite. But when I think of the way he saw me when we danced, before I puked his shoes, when I thought his eyes looked grayer than a raincloud, I get weirdly warm.

Going back and forth between happy and shite is driving me mental. It makes me want to grab his face and ask him to choose whether he'll be nice or not. (I think I'd like it if he were–then maybe I could let my guard down a little and relax. But how can I tell him that if he leaves the room every time I enter and doesn't even come back to sleep?)

(He's staying over at Dev and Niall's.) (I know because he wore a shirt to class the other day that  _ clearly _ wasn't his size.)

I don't know what to do. It's come to the point where if he doesn't want to talk, if he wants to fight, I'll do it. I'll do anything to stop this new form of absence. It almost feels the way it did before he came back–when I thought he was missing or plotting–only this time he _is_ _here_ , which makes it worse in a different way.

The Room is changing songs again and I feel like punching a wall. A strong guitar riff comes after a screech and a man begins singing, his smokey voice filling the empty.

_ “Sometimes, when this place gets kind of empty _

_ Sound of their breath fades with the light.” _

There is a strange eariness to the music and I can't tell if The Room is mocking me or just trying to creep me out.

_ “Wish I knew what you were looking for _

_ Might have known what you would find.” _

That sounds too personal, too close to home, so I lay back and listen to the man. I'm not sure I understand what he means or who he's talking about, but all I think about is Baz. I want to know what he's thinking, why he helped me when I felt my world was burning and why he took me to that party. I want to know the reason he played with my hair and the reason he isn't talking to me.

I  _ need _ to know.

_ “Under the Milky Way tonight _

_ Under the Milky Way tonight.” _

For once, The Room is actually decent and I get an idea.

**AGATHA**

I have a text from Penelope in my inbox even though we've just had breakfast together.

(12:18)  _ hi ags _

(12:18)  _ cn I ask a favour? _

(12:19)  _ its Simon _

That explains it, they were meeting after.

(12:45)  **Sure, if it doesn't involve goblins.**

(12:55)  _ no _

(12:55)  _ just _

(12:55)  _ can u text this to baz? _

I read the message he sends and cringe. I'll have to retype it before I send it.

(12:58)  **This isn't some plot hurt him, right?**

(12:59)  **Is it??**

(13:01)  _ no, cross my heart _

__ (13:01) _ promise _

Fine, whatever. I retype the text and send it. A few minutes pass by until Baz answers.

(13:16)  _ See you then. _

I let Simon know he'll be there and prepare my clothes for running. I haven't really talked to them after the hungover get-together, only Penny. They've been sketchy ever since, maybe beyond usual. Still, I don't need to know what exactly are they doing, that's Pennys thing, not mine. If they want to prank each other or something I don't care.

I run for about an hour before heading to the showers. It was such a good day for being outside I almost wished to stay up on my tree, watching the birds.

When I come back to my room Penny is there. She's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt reading  _ ‘Girls just wanna have FUNdamental rights’. _ There's also a bowl of popcorns on my bead.

“What is this?”

“I thought we could watch  _ The Proposition. _ ”

“You mean  _ The Proposal _ ?”

“Yeah,  _ that _ ! Come on, you in?” She says, taking off her shoes and hoping on my bed. I jump right next to her and grab a handful of popcorn.

“Salty caramel. Nice.”

I'm glad I didn't climbed the tree today.

  
  
  
  


**BAZ**

I've been expecting Wellbelove for almost five minutes now. I don't know what she needs, but it sounded urgent. Still, I'll give it five more minutes before I leave to Dev and Niall's. I don't want them to think I'm staying at my room and lock the door.

I've stayed with them for almost a week now and I think they're starting to resent me. I have been a bit of a prick about the sleeping arrangement making them share a bed, but I've tried to accommodate to everything else. I even agreed to leave the window open for Crowley's sake! Still, I don't trust they will leave the door open for me.

Ten minutes and Agatha still isn't here. I'm standing near the bridge and the wind is eating at my skin. I'm about to leave and text her to be punctual next time when I see a figure trotting towards me. Snow, just what I needed.

I start to move towards Mummers, fast enough to flee without looking like, it I hope.

“Oi, stop!” I hear him calling but there is no way I'll stay here. “ _ Please. _ ”

I stand in place, cursing myself for being so weak. I almost move again when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. I turn around and Simon Snow is flushed and panting before me, looking like a mess.

“What? Do you need to vomit again? Can I take my shoes off first?”

There is anger in his eyes and I think he might bite back, but he just swallows and gives me another reason to hate him.

“I'm sorry. That's all I want to say. Sorry” There is a stutter in his voice and he's still flushed and panting from his mild jog. He looks adorable, which makes me want to kick him.

“Sorry for being such a nuisance or just for existing in general?”

“Why do you have to make things so difficult?”

I don't know.

“Why do you have to break everything you touch?”

“Can you not do that!?” He's getting frustrated, I can tell by the way he tugs at his curls. I want to comb them and tug them myself, but I can't and never will.

“ _ What _ .”

“Can you not say the meanest thing possible? Just once, can you not– Can you just listen!?” I raise my head and square my shoulders to seem taller, because right now I'm merely an inch high.

“I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry I got sick on you and ruined your shoes, and probably your entire night. But–” He takes a pause and I stiff. “Can we go back? Can we do that?”

“What on earth do you mean?” I say. I have an idea, but it may be too good to be true.

“Baz, I–” He huffs and puffs like a bear again and a piece of my heart flutters. “I know you and your family hate me and I know you think I'm a git, but can we not… do  _ that? _ ”

He can't mean it. I need to be sure of what he's failing to say.

“Use your words, Simon.”

His eyes perch up and I realize what I did. I've never called him Simon before, only Snow or  _ Error of Creation,  _ amongst others. Never Simon.

“Can we not try to kill each other?” 

“I've never tried to kill you.” I say, and it's true. Wipe from the face of the earth yes, but never kill, never  _ really _ hurt. Not since I realized I loved him anyways.

“Of course you have, you pushed me down the stairs!!” He shouts moving his hands.

“I punched you and you fell. There's a difference.” He huffs again and I want to punch my own face. “Against what everyone thinks, I don't wish to kill you, Snow.”

Blue eyes pierce me and I feel naked. _Wrongly_ _naked._

“You can call me Simon. I actually like it better.”

I can't. Not if I want to stay sane.

“Very well, Snow. I forgive you and I  _ won't _ kill you. Is that all?” I try to sound as bored and neutral as possible, but my heart is going faster than light.  _ What have I done? _

He's grabbing his curls again. “Actually I kind of, uh, planed something.”

“You  _ planned _ something?”

“Yeah, uh, Agatha isn't coming.”  _ Great Snakes _ she's gonna pay for this. “Can you, will you follow me? It won't be bad, I promise.”

I want to melt and die, then turn into a flower and be stomped by an idiot.

“Lead the way.”

**SIMON**

I thought Baz wouldn't give. I thought he'd tell me to sod off and spell me mute, but he's walking a bit far behind me as I take us up the rampants.

Everything is as I left it, except for the napkins. They must have flown with the wind. I stand in front of the blanket I layed covered with a pot of tea, two cups and tray filled with food from the kitchen. (I had to tell Cook Prichard that Penny was on her period and needed an emergency meal.) (I felt bad for lying, but it was nice to know she understood.)

I look back to see if Baz is still there. He's looking at the floor, but he stopped a couple of meters away. his hand are in his pockets and he looks like policeman undercover, waiting for a perp to pop up.

“I thought we could have dinner, you know?”

“I see that.” He's still not moving. “Why here?”

“I thought we could look at the stars.” I say, and I realize how cheesy it sounds. I need to say something else. “The room is playing bebop.”

“I thought you liked jazz.” 

_ How does he know that? _ I shrug and make my way over the blanket, making sure not to step on anything. When I sit down my foot moves further and knocks over the sugar I'd put on a glass.

“It's fine,” I say, trying to clean up the mess. “You can have all the sugar left.”

I hear a chuckle and when I look up Baz is covering his mouth. Red hot heat rushes to my face and I turn back to cleaning the sugar. I hear steps getting closer. Baz recites a spell and the lost sugar vanishes from the floor.

“Thanks.” I keep finding things to move so I don't have to look up.

“It's an easy spell.” He says, sitting down. I try to pass him the tray but he puts a hand before him.

“I already had dinner.” He says, and I feel like an idiot. Of course he already had dinner. “But I'll take a cup of tea. And the sugar.”

I smile at him and grab the pot. I serve him on the biggest cup so he gets more, and give him a spoon to add the sugar. He just grabs the glass and pours it all in. It's a bit diabetic if you ask me, but I did say it was all his, so I won't complain.

I serve my own tea and we stay quiet for a minute, stirring in silence. We can see most of Watford from here, and we're so close to Mummers I can see through our open window. Crap, I never thought people could see us before. I need to shut the blinds when we go back. Will we go back?

“Baz,” I say, trying to keep the calm.

“Mh?” He has the cup to his lips and is blowing out the steam. He looks soft and gentle, and I don't want to ruin it by asking the wrong question.

“What is your favourite constellation?”  
  


**BAZ**

Simon Snow nearly choked on a cookie, and I can't believe the time I spent trying to make him miserable when I should have been making him laugh. When he's happy, his eyes have a glimmer and his mouth does this thing, a little twitch on the corner of his lips right before he bursts into laughter. He's painstakingly beautiful.

It's an hour past midnight and we're still in the rampants, chatting and drinking tea. (Snow had to get a refill and I had a smoke while he was gone.) (He scowled at me when he came back and I smelled like tobacco ash.) 

I'm exhausted, but Simon doesn't seem tired at all. He has some tells for when he's tired: his eyes start closing and his voice becomes thicker until all he can manage are growls and  _ hums _ . Right now he can't stop talking. We've been chatting about the stupidest things, the mundane and the boring, but I don't want it to end. I want to listen to him and savour the world through his eyes, because everything can be wonderful trough him. Because  _ he _ is wonderful.

I want to kiss him. I want _him_ to kiss me. I want him to _want_ _me._ But I know he doesn't.

“…sometimes I miss our first years, when we could save the world  _ and _ go to the movies, y'know?” He says, cutting off my thoughts.

“No, I've never been the saving the wold type of guy. I prefer plotting on the catacombs and sulking in a river of blood.”

That was meant to be a joke, but Simon isn't laughing. I'm starting to think I'm bad at joking. Instead, he turns to look at me and props his head on one hand. He's eyes look impossibly clear, like a sunny day sky, and his lips are slightly parted. Crowley, hes so close and I can't move, I can't  _ think _ . I must look like a fucking idiot.

“I’m sorry”

_ “What?” _

“For that day, at the catacombs… I'm sorry.”

He's apologizing for the time he saw me have a melt down near my mother's grave. Most importantly, for the first time in his life Simon Snow is looking me in the eyes with anything but anger and _holding_ _it_ , and I think I might die right now.

“Its ok, you didn't knew”

“No, it's not. I'm sorry I made you…  _ you know” _

“No, I dont.” I really don't know what he means.

Simon scofs and tugs at his curls, his perfect mess of curls, and throws me a look I know means he wants to kill me.

“I’m sorry I made you into a villain at eleven. And I'm sorry it took all this time to be, you know, closer.”

Oh. I didn't see that coming. I really don't know what to answer.

“You don't have to say anything. You don't even have to forgive me. I just,” he sighs the longest sigh, and I'm afraid hell run out of air. “I wanted to say sorry, to let you know that I know. I mean–I  _ know _ how hard it is to miss someone like  _ that _ , and I'm really sorry I took that away from you when I evilised you. I could've done better.”

My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it everywhere. Simon Snow is apologising for the loss of my mother. For not being able to ‘do better’ for a person he never even met, and I can’t decide if I want to kiss him or cry, or both.

“Don't be. I don't want you feeling sorry. I don't want you to see me and feel pain.”

It comes out before I can help it, but I hear the small catch of a breath, and it's not mine. Simon is looking at me, eyes blown wide and lips slightly parted. I consider taking it back, pretending I didn't say anything, but he starts getting closer, slowly. I move slowly too, because this is certainly a dream and if I go too fast I'll wake up surrounded by darkness.

I'm starting to close my eyes when a flash of light hits Simon. We turn our heads towards Mummers in time to see a flicker in our room, a figure appears and vanishes. It looks like a flash, like a hologram.

A Visitting.

We both get up and look at the stairs. We're too far from the door, so I hop on the edge of the wall.

“What are you doing!?” Simon is shouting and I can feel his magic rise.

“It's ok, I know how to do this. I won't fall”

I have my wand in hand and I start conjuring a spell to slow my fall when I feel Simon stand right beside me.

“You're not doing this alone.”

“I'm not sure  _ you _ can conjure it.”

“You do it. I trust you.”

Just hearing those words sends a shiver down my spine and makes my heart beat stronger. I feel like I could do anything right now. I grab Simon by the waist and start conjuring the spell.

**_“ Catch Yourself…”_ **

Simon holds me by the shoulder and I feel a buzz on my skin. Suddenly it becomes a full on rush of static and I feel like the flicker of a stove.

**_“… On!”_ **

I count to three and we jump. I grab Simon tight and close my eyes for a second, then I feel the spell working. We're sauntering downwards, the wind is pricking at my skin making my eyes water. We thump on the ground losing our balance and falling to our knees. I'm on my feet in less than a second and run towards our room without restraints, Simon following close behind. By the time we make it upstairs the room is in complete darkness, and a deep abrasive cold engulfs us both.

“We're late.” I say. Simon is panting besides me, hands on his knees. We're both breathless. “We missed it.” I get my hair out of my face. I must look like a mess.

“I'm sorry, if I hadn't–” He begins.

“ _ No _ ,” I cut him, “That was amazing. What you did...”

Before I can finish a figure moves before us and we shut up. When the image forms completely I see a tall woman before me, with olive skin and eyes like mine. My heart stops.

_ “Mum…” _

**SIMON**

The room is quiet. Everything is quiet except for the thumbing of my heart.

“ _ Mum… _ ”

I turn to look at Baz and then at the Visiting. They both have the same complection: long nose and high brow, only Baz is much, much paler. I recognize her now–

Natasha Grimm-Pitch. There's a portrait of her in The Mage's office–her old office.

The ghost of Natasha is hovering closer and I don't think I should stay, this isn't my place, but I can't move. I can't leave Baz like this.

_ “Basilton, my boy.” _

“Mom, I–”

_ “Listen. My killer walks. Find Nicodemus, he'll know.” _ Her voice is cold. Everything about her is cold. _ “Find Nico and bring me peace.” _

“What?” I say, louder than I meant to. Natasha takes a glance and ignores me. She moves closer to Baz and her features turn softer. She raises a hand to touch his cheek, I see him shiver but he doesn't move away, and she smiles at him and places a kiss on his temple.

_ “I love you, Basilton. More than anything.” _

“I love you too.” He cries, touching his cheek where her hand is vanishing. A second later she's gone and we're left in the dark.

**BAZ**

My mind is rushing but I can't move my legs, I'm not even sure I'm breathing. I feel cold dripping on my cheek and realize I'm crying. I wipe my tears off and pull my hair back. If what my mother said is true–if the vampire attack wasn't the hole story–and whoever killed is out there  _ breathing _ , I have to change that. 

I have to go.

“Baz…” I feel Simon's hand in my arm and I jerk back. He's warm, like a bonfire, and I realize I'm shivering.  _ Fuck.  _ “Are you ok?”

“Tickety-boo.” I snark, moving towards my dresser. The lights are still off, but I can see in the dark. I hear Simon shuffle a little and then the lights are on.

“What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake. What the fuck do you think I'm doing!?” I snap, closing my drawers. I can't handle him right now, I can't think of him or the rampants or floating. I feel like everything happened in another life where my chance at happiness was real, and my mother's killers had already been turned to ash.

_ Nicodemus. _ I have t find him, whoever that is.

“Baz, wait.” Snow is standing by the doorway, jaw clenched and frowning. He looks like he will physically restrain me from leaving. As if he could stop  _ me _ . “Where are you going?

I don't know, and I don't care. I just need to  _ go. _

“None of your business.”

“Do you know who Nicodemus is?” I wont answer that. I sip up my bag and look for my cell phone and keys. “You can't move without a plan. Stay, let me help you.”

His words are like a slap to the face. As if Simon Snow,  _ The Mage's Heir _ , would help us Pitches avenge his mentor's politikal rival. I don't know what I was thinking before. Getting close to Simon is the worst idea I've had, and now it's come to bite me in the arse.

“I'm going, whether you like it or not.” I found my phone and grab my keys, but Snow is still blocking my exit. “Move, or I'll do it for you.”

**SIMON**

“You can't go! You can't just leave again!” Baz is trying to flee and I'm screaming. Every bone in my body trembles with raw energy, but my head is clear. My magic is under control, but I still have my strength, and he's definitely leaner. I can't let him leave after that. 

Baz drops his bag and moves towards me with heavy pace, stopping just before his nose touches my own and raising the three inches he holds above me.

He looks into my eyes and there's nothing soft about it.

“ _ Move. _ ”

“No.”

What comes out of his mouth is a guttural sound and my skin shivers with memories of our fights. Both of us growling, ready to skin each other, unwavering and defiant like he is right now. But it's different. What I used to see as rage or disgust now comes of as sorrow, pain. The git I've been crying for all this years is nowhere near being a monster. He's just a lad looking for a fight, and I've never backed down before.

“You have to stay.” I say, not sure to know a reason why.

“Make me.” His voice is hoarse but his eyes look sad.  _ So, so sad. _ I want to make it stop, I don't like seeing it. I want to grab him and shatter the misery off of him.

I step forward and he stands his ground, tall and stoic. Another day I would have found it menacing, but not right now. Not anymore. I move one hand slowly up his arm and he lets me, so I move the other round his back and hold. He takes a second to let go but then he gives weight, so I hug him and he falls into my arms almost immediately.

“It's ok, Baz. It's ok.”

“No, it's not.” He's tearing up and shaking, and I'm trying my best to hold us both together.

“You're right, it's not. But it will be.” I'm trying my best to say the right thing, but I mean every word. “Promise.”

**BAZ**

I wake up with a shiver and Simons breath on my neck. We're sitting on my bed, his arms wrapped around me, his chest to my back. I moved to the bed after he hugged me into staying, I was crying so much I couldn't breathe, so he sat behind me and talked me down. When my breath evened the room started playing again.  _ Golden Slumbers _ . My mother used to sing me that to help me sleep every night. I began to cry again and Simon held me though it all, until we both fell asleep.

It's still dark outside, so it can't be morning, and my neck is really uncomfortable but I don't want to wake him up and move to his bed. Maybe he won't–maybe he'll stay and hugh me again, he'll put a hand on the back of my head and call me darling.

Who am I kidding, he will  _ never _ call me darling.

I feel another shiver and a frosty voice rises over the music.

_ “My son, my son,”  _ It sounds like wind through the trees.

I nudge Simon on the ribs to wake him up. He grumbles, tightening his arms around me and I want to let him be, but I can't. I don't want to face this alone. I nudge him again and he mumbles deep in sleep.

“Whut?”

The voice speaks again and I feel him straighten up.

_ “Simon, Simon… My rosebud boy. I'm sorry. I never would have left.” _

“Simon,” I try, my voice is hoarse and trembles a bit, “That's not my mum.”

Even without vampire hearing I'm sure his heartbeat would have reached me. His fists are closed, tight around my forearms, and it's the only part of me that's warm. The cold is extreme but we can't see a figure. The silence is deafening and we aren't moving. 

_ “Davy… He told me we were stars…” _

There's a sudden shift in the air, like a directed breeze that shoots between us ruffling my hair towards Simons face. It feels like when my mother touched me, right before she vanished, and then it's gone. The music in the room changes and my mother's song is replaced with the voice of Joni Mitchell. I hear a contained sob behind me and the warmth in my arms is gone.

“Simon,” I try again, this time my voice comes out clearer. “Look at me.” I turn around so I can face him. He looks like a classic statue, pained and stiff, and I grab his hands between my fingers, “ _ Look at me.” _

He isn't moving, he's just frozen, staring into nothing, and I feel the urge to slap him.

“Can Normals come back too?” He asks with the voice of a mouse.

“No, not that I know of.”

He's quiet for a bit, putting two and two together. I can see his ears turning pink, but his face hasn't changed. It pains me to say I've never seen him like this, and I don't know what to do.

“If she was here then that means,”

“Yes, I know what it means.” I say as softly as I can, “We'll figure this out.”

I put my hand on his cheek because he isn't  _ here _ , he's far away and I want him back. His eyes fall back to me as I move a thumb over the moles of his skin, and it's like he returned to his body.

“We'll find her, I promise.”

**BAZ**

Our songs have been playing on repeat, alternating day and night. My mother's gets the morning, and Simon's starts at eight. He's missed dinner a couple of times, and I make sure to bring back food with me when he does. I think it comforts him, to think this is a part of her, to know  _ something _ about her. I know what is like to remember someone, to miss them so much your heart becomes lead–but I can't imagine missing someone I've never met.

Tonight Bunce is coming with me. She attacked me three days ago, thinking I had done something to Snow to prevent him from taking, so I explained everything I could. (I skipped all the parts that made me a fool.) (All tenderness and waking up together.) (I don't need her knowing that.)

She told me to take her to the room  _ immediately _ , so I did. She stayed the night and I slept over at Dev and Niall's. I told them about my mother and they let me pick a movie for the night, offered to help and didn't complain about me taking one bed.

I began tracing a plan of action then, but I'm not sure how to start looking for people no one's ever mentioned before–much less someone without a name. The library at Watford is a disaster due to The Mage's attempt at ''modernizing'' it and his incapability to do something right.

Bunce and I are having dinner together before checking on Simon again. I already grabbed as many scones as I could without caring for anyone who would want some, and she took care of the butter. We'll save half the kettle.

There's something I need to ask her, and I'm not sure what to expect, so I just do it.

“I'm sure Simon told you his side of what happened,” Bunce looks up at me from her book, her eyes big behind glasses. “I'm sure he told you I offered assistance in finding…  _ her. _ ”

She nods, closing her book completely and leaning forward on the table. 

“He said something like that. Though I don't believe it.”

“I understand, but it's true.” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “The thing is, we need your help.

“ _ We _ ?”

“Snow offered to help me, too.” There's understandable tension between us, but I need her skills. “He promised, actually.” 

“Of course he did.” She sighs, grabbing a scone and leaning back.

“I did too.”

She stops mid bite and stares back at me. If there's something on her mind she covers it well. 

“How do I know you're not lying. That this isn't a scheme of some kind.”

“I would not play with my mothers death like that.” I say harshly. Bunce appears to be taken aback.

“I'm sorry.” She says, losing her careless pose and clearing her throat. “You're right, I'm sorry. It's just–I don't know why you would help Simon. You've been going for his throat since we were first years.”

“So has he.”

“Yeah, but he is…” _ Good. Kind. Far better than me. _ “Trusting.”

“Do you need a contract saying I won't kill you? I already gave you access to our room  _ and _ promised to help Snow. I don't see what difference a piece of paper would do.”

“No, that's ok.” She says, picking up her book again, “But the second I believe Simon's in trouble… I won't hesitate.”

“Wouldn't have it other way.”

We finish our diner in silence and take the rest with us to Mummers. 

When we enter, the room is playing  _ A Little Green _ . Simon is hugging a pillow to his chest, looking at the poster over my bed.  _ IN RAINBOWS _ . I brought it with me years ago and left it hanging even when I suspected he liked it. Maybe because of it.

“Simon,” Bunce says, holding the butter and teacup, “We brought you diner.”

He perks up and gives her half a smile, then he looks at the bag of scones i'm holding and he smiles at me fully. His hair is a mess and there is a red line from resting on a wrinkle crossing his left cheek. He looks adorable.

I put the scones down on his desk and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I step out he and Bunce are sitting on the floor, talking about homework. I move towards my bed, avoiding their little circle. Simon reaches out slightly, touching my leg as I pass him.

“Why don't you sit down?” He's looking up like a pupper and I feel a tug on my chest.

“I don't think–”

“Actually,” Bunce says cutting me off, “if we're going to work together we might as well begin.” We both stare back at her. Simon's mouth is partly open and he looks like an idiot. “Baz asked me to help with your search over diner, and I already have some ideas on where to start.”

Fucking brilliant. That's exactly what we need. I nod solemnly and sit on the edge of my bed. “Let's get to work then.”

The smile on Simon's face is priceless.

**SIMON**

We stole a book from The Mage's office today. It was Baz's job to pick which one, but it was Penny who suggested breaking in and taking something. I wasn't  _ completely _ against it, but I still feel the urge to tell The Mage. (It's not like I can given that he hasn't exactly been around–but I feel the need.) I've been lying a lot though. I still don't know if I should tell him my mother wasn't Normal, and I'm definitely keeping to myself the promise I made to Baz. He wouldn't like it. Not at all.

It's been a weird week. Between the Visitings, the music and Baz, everything is chaos. We have a mission though, something I can focus on, and that always helps.

“What did you take?” Penny asks loudly, so I shush her. We're right outside the office and she's whirling around Baz, trying to catch the name of the book he brought. (She admired Natasha, I think, despite her politiks.)

“The only book of my mother's I could find in that pigpen.” Baz answers with disdain.

There's a dragon on the spine, spitting a fire that reads:  _ Flames and Blazes–The Art of Burning. _

“Brill,” Penny exalts, and then adds in a softer tone that's usually saved for me: “Maybe we'll find something about her.”

Baz smiles half heartedly and I flit from anxious to blissful. This feels good, even if we're breaking the rules.

“We should go, there's a lot to tackle on today.”

“Penny, it's almost time for diner.” I say, feeling my stomach grumble. “I'm hungry.”

“You're always hungry, say something we don't know.” Baz says dismissively still looking at the book.

“It's not like I can help it. I heard they will serve dark chocolate and curry tonight.”

“Revolting. I think I'll pass.”

“ _ Hello? _ ” Penny interrupts, “We have Natasha Pitch's book and a hole night ahead. I can make coffee.”

“Bunce, as much as I admire your drive, I am tired and unwilling to handle Snow without dinner. We can go over it in the morning,  _ after _ breakfast.”

“Hey! I'm right here.” I say, throwing my hands up, but they ignore me.

Penny crosses her arms and frowns. She looks like a stock image for the word ‘huff’. “Fine. But we meet  _ at _ breakfast. Not after.”

We make our way to the school grounds and Penny and I walk to the dinner. Baz stays behind. 

“Oi, aren't you coming?”

“I have more important things to do than watch you stuff your mouth like a pig.” He says, and I feel my blood boil “Bunce,” He adds with a head tilt, and then he's gone.

Prick.” I say, but he's too far to hear.

“You can't expect him to change overnight.” Penny states, walking away too.

“I don't.” I say, trailing behind her. “Do I really eat like a pig?”

Penny gives me a pitiful look and doesn't answer.

When I enter the room I her my mum's song playing and an aching ease covers my heart. Baz is bent over on his desk and he turns around when he hears me.

“There's something I want to show you.” His eyes look eager and I feel my stomach coil. He looks back at the book and starts to leaf through the pages. He's been reading it then.

I close the door behind me and begin to take off my shoes. I've never been so hesitant to move in my own room so I stand in the middle of our floor, unsure of what to do.

I focus on Baz as he skips pages. There's a cobweb on his hair and I feel the urge to clean it, but I stop myself.

“Here,” He says, finally, straightening up with the book in hand. He's still holding it close and I have trouble seeing what he means, specially when he moves to sit on the edge of his bed. “When I was little my mother used to tell me stories about dragons and fire.”

I move closer to see what he's pointing at. It's an image, an illustration of a red dragon, hovering over a village.

“It kind of looks like the t-rex from _Jurassic_ _Park_.”

The snort that Baz makes is brilliant. He acts annoyed, but I can see him fight back a smile. It's uncomfortable to see him from up high, so I move to sit next to him.

“You can't sit on my bed.” He says, but I'm already doing it. He scoffs at me but doesn't make me move. I take a peek at the pages and realize there are handmade notes all over the edges. They must be from his mother–the lettering is almost as pretty as his.

“My family has a long history with fire. It's supposed to draw all the way back from Egypt.” Baz says, touching one of the drawn flames. I don't know why he's telling me all of this, but I want to hear more. I want to know about his history with dragons and fire. “They're not dark creatures, you know? They won't attack unless they're under threat.”

“I used to wonder what it would be like to fly like one.” I say, holding my legs to my chest. “Before I came here. I used to dream of flying away.”

Baz is looking at the book, and I'm looking at him. There's a softness to his features I rarely get to see when he's awake, and I'm trying to drink them in.

“She used to do this spell that would make all the lights in the room dance in the form she wanted. She would make them turn to dragons and fly above my head.”

“Wicked.” I say. Baz turns back to me, his features sharp again, and I  _ know _ he's plotting something.

“Do you remember what you did on the rampants the night of the Visits?”

“What?”

“That thing you did before we jumped.”

“Oh, I er, I don't know.” I stutter remembering the feeling. It was like opening a tab and letting go. Like giving some of the magic that's always trying to get out. “I just sort of pushed a little.”

“You  _ pushed. _ ” He's raising an eyebrow and I feel like my answer is dumb.

“Yeh, sort of.”

“Could you do it again?”

“I don't know.”

“Would you care to try?” His eyes are fixed on me and I feel a rush of blood coming up my face.

I look away and run my hands through my hair. 

“Now? Are you sure?? I mean, I think it was a fluke.”

“A fluke. You can do  _ that _ and you call it a fluke. Seriously Snow...”

“What did it felt like?” I ask. Baz looks away and now it's his time to turn pink.  _ Crowley _ , he looks pretty. “did it hurt? Was it good?”

“Stop talking about feeling. Are we doing it or not?”

I take a deep breath and shift closer to him, crossing my legs so I won't fall backwards. He back up a little but doesn't move away. I grab his hands and there's a small tingle on my skin I'm not sure comes from magic.

There's a tug in my chest and I hesitate, I know my magic can be too much and I'm not sure it won't hurt him.  _ I don't want to hurt him. _

“Come on Snow, make haste.”

I swallow heavily, closing my eyes, and I let go.

There's a faint buzzing where our hands are touching, and then it becomes stronger, steadier. I open my eyes and see Baz's face. He's looking down at our hands, beaming a little, and I can see his chest rising with each breath.

“Is this ok?” 

“It's fine,” He says, and he sounds canty. “What exactly are you doing?”

I shrug even though he can't see me.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, no.” He says, meeting my eyes. “I feel like casting any spell right now.”

“Show me.” I say.

He takes a deep breath, then closes his eyes and furrows his brow the way he does when he's focused

**_“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times!”_ **

The lights of the room flicker and escape from their posts. I turn to look at Baz and there's a faint smile growing on him.

**_“If one only remembers to turn on the light!”_ **

The lights begin to dance around us, growing and thinning until one of them goes to the roof, the others following. They're dragons, flying above us. It's his mum's spell.

“Baz,” I say. His face is looking at the ceiling and the lights shimmer on his eyes. He looks a bit like he did the night of the party. The night he came close to me and danced. “This is amazing.” 

“I know.” He giggles, “I feel drunk.”

“You look like it.”

He darts back to me and I catch my breath. I'm suddenly aware of how close we are and how easy it would be for me to close the space between us, and I fright.

“I'm pulling back.” I say, closing up whatever it is that I opened. Baz looks sad at the notice and I get embarrassed for it. I didn't mean to cut off the moment, I just meant to take a break. The lights fly back to their place, but the atmosphere feels charged.

“Are you ok? Did it hurt?” He's asking pointedly, looking less calm.

“Yeah, no–I'm fine. You?”

“Perfect.” He takes a long pause before adding, “ _ Merlin _ , this is embarrassing. I feel like I've been struck by lightning.”

“Like, in a good way??”

“Yes.” He smiles. He's acting so freely I'm afraid to mess it up, but I have to ask.

“Do you think you can take it from me? Can anyone take it from me?”

“Let me try.” He closes his eyes again and I consider how long his lashes are, then remember that's something I already knew.  _ Why did I knew that?. _ “No, I can't. I've never heard of a magician who could  _ take _ magic.”

I release the breath I didn't know I was holding. For some reason the idea of someone using my magic at will scares the crap out of me. (I can barely control it already, I don't know how it would be like to lose it completely.)

“What's wrong?” Baz asks frowning again. He looks worried and I don't think he realizes we're still holding hands.

“Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just tired, aren't you?”

“I'm exhausted.” He says, but he doesn't let go. In fact neither of us moves. I don't want to go. We never talked about the night we slept together–maybe because it was so dramatic and we had other things in mind–but now I wonder if we should. Or better, I wonder if we  _ shouldn't _ talk. If i should just  _ lean _ and see what happens.  _ Would he bite? _

“Right.” Baz cuts, “I'm off to shower then.” He lets go of my hands and I feel a cold I'd never experienced. i let out a crooked sound and regret it.

“Right…” I clear my throat, but Baz doesn't turn to me, he just walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

“Good luck.” I add.

I'm a bloody idiot.

**AGATHA**

I'm looking at an old memory book nineties, trying to find anything that might help, but all I can see are choker ands trousers. (Mum told me no one used skirts back then.)

“Are you sure this is the right year?” I ask, skipping through yet another page of academic accomplishments. People in the nineties really had nothing else to do but study, huh?

“No,” Penny says offhandedly, “That's why Dev is looking for the rest of them.”

“It's a miracle we found one, really. The Mage cancelled them when he took over.” Baz says, not looking up from that fire book he's been hogging.

We're all in the library looking for people we've never heard of, trying to solve a murder mystery. It's just like the old days when Penny, Simon and I would get together to figure out The Mage's newest ‘mission’. I never liked it.

“That sucks.” Simon sighs. He stopped reading a while ago, now he's just lying on the table, looking at Baz. “It would be nice to have pictures.”

“We have pictures, Si.” Penny adds condescendingly. She's reading too, with her feet propped up on a chair, definitely trying to look cool.

“ _ We _ don't.” Niall disses, looking directly at Baz.

“That's because your face is unbearable. It's a service to future generations.” Baz cuts.

“Piss off.” Niall says, but with a smile. I wonder if there's something going on between them. Baz is clearly not into girls, and Niall is actually very handsome–even with violet eyes.

Simon perks up a bit looking between them, then tries to read again. I look back at the old pictures in my hands. Every person seem happy and I wonder why we only keep the happy pictures. Why don't we save pictures of us crying or getting angry? It would make memories more real.

There's a picture that gets my attention and I stop to admire it. A girl is standing in the middle of twenty lads wearing shorts. It's the rugby team, and it looks like she was a player. She looks fierce holding a winning cup. Her shoulders are broad and her blond hair is filled with mud. Her smile is filling half her face. I know that smile.

“Hey, doesn't she look familiar?” I ask, but no one pays me much attention.

I turn back the pages trying to find her again. There's another picture: she's sitting down in the grass, holding a vintage guitar with a girl and two boys around her.

“Hey, that's my mum.” Penelope says, looking over my shoulder, “And my dad.”

“Who's the girl next to them?” I ask. They look really close and they're all smiling.

“I dunknow. They never talk about their friends from school. I didn't think they had any.” Penny answers, going back to her seat. “I'll have to ask them over Christmas.”

I look back at the girl. She looks hopeful, like someone who has the world at her feet. I wonder if I've ever looked like that.

There's a hand on her shoulder, and it's from the boy that isn't Penny's dad. He has longish hair and weird v-neck shirt. He's smiling sheepishly at her and he looks dead handsome. Maybe they were in love and that's why she looks invincible. A sudden awareness hit me as I realize who I'm looking at.

“The Mage…” I say, louder than I care for. Everyone turns to look at me and I swallow thick. “Look.” I say, putting the book on the table and pointing at him.

“Haddaway and shite!” Niall blurts The Mage had a girlfriend!?”

“My parents went to school with The Mage?” Penny asks, standing behind me with her hands on my shoulders. “And they were  _ friends! _ ?”

“Are you sure that's him?” Simon asks. He and Baz are leaning on the table, looking at it upside down. 

“Uh, yeah.” I say, “He's exactly the same, minus the terrible moustache.”

“”

I skip through the pages until I reach the last section where there are pictures of every student with their name and a quote. I find the girl first.

“Her name is Lucy.” I say.  _ Lucy… _ It fits her. I keep looking and spot the picture of her boyfriend. Underneath long locks and killer eyes I read the name:

**_-DAVY-_ **

A cold shiver fills me and I hear Penny gasp behind me, her hands going to her mouth. 

“Simon…” I start, but I don't want to say it. 

“What, Ags?”

“Oh, Simon…” Penny is starting to crumble behind me, and I don't blame her. If I wasn't sitting down I would have fallen.

Everyone's paying us attention now, even Baz, his eyes following the page. He grabs the book from me before I can stop him and a I try to take it back–but it's too late. They are already looking. Baz sees it first, and I swear he grows paler–and then Simon.

His eyes close for a moment, as if the wind had hit them. When he opens them a spark flies out and a speck of golden is starting to consume the blue.

“Snow…” Baz says, not daring to move. “Simon.”

The smell of something burning fills my nose, and my eyes start to water, and Simon doesn't seem to listen. Everyone in the library has turned to us now, feeling his power.

“Simon, breath. It's ok, just let go a little.  _ Breath _ . We're in the library, sitting on a table. We're–”

In a second he's gone

**BAZ**

I run off after Simon, but a bunch of first grades get in my way. They never learnt to flee from our fights.

When I finally leave the building I have no idea where to look. I start scouting the area but my eyes are met with fifty people all dressed the same. I begin to move through the midday crowd when I see a clear path opening before me. Simon must be that way, making people move with his sole presence. I can feel his magic, even from here where I can't see him. I think he's heading to the forest.

I make my way snapping at people to move until I reach the drawbridge. I cross it and finally see him running into the forest. He's legs are moving, but his feet don't touch the ground. I run to him, hoping to get him before he's lost between the trees. 

I call for him, but he doesn't answer. I call for him again, this time I use a ‘ **_Hear ye, hear ye!’_ ** to carry my voice, in case he's too far to hear. There's a rustle behind a willow and a hoarse cry. I run to follow it, moving the branches off my face. There's a white shirt torn over some bushes. I look over them and see Simon kneeling on the ground, shaking. 

“ _ What the fuck. _ ” I say under my breath. There are two rubbery red wings attached to his bare back, and a devil's tail coming through his trousers. He stands and turns like he just heard me, but he doesn't look at me. His eyes are glowing with magic, and his skin looks like it's being lit up from within. Everything smells of smoke.

“ _ Simon. _ ” I cry, but he doesn't listen. The wings spread wide behind him and he starts to levitate. I can't get near him. I call for him again–stronger this time–but he doesn't flatter. He doesn't even look at me. I don't think he can hear me.

I'm losing sight of him and I try to move, to run, to climb a tree and see where he lands ( _ if _ he lands), but I'm stuck in place.

All I can do is scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm so glad you've kept reading :))  
> This chapter is sooo long and I'm taking a lot of time to focus on my uh -responsibilities- so I'm sorry if I can't post next week. Were so close to the end and i can feel it's going to be strange.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> Thank you for reading this far! This is my first fic and it's a part of a larger thing I hope I can finish. I would love to read what you think in the comments, so feel free to type whatever you want.  
> This is just the beginning :)
> 
> Ps. If there is anything I should put on the tags and forgot please let me know.


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